Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc
by ErtheChilde
Summary: Harry Potter is given an account of his mother's first year at Hogwarts that reveals that far from just being a clever Muggle-born, she was also the conduit of an ancient pact sworn centuries before. *Canon Pairings* *Fantasy* *PART ONE/SEVEN*
1. Chapter One: A Snake in the Lion's Den

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

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><p><em>Disclaimer:<em>  
>This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright © Joanne K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and for the entertainment of the readers. They are not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters (specifically Elsie Fenswallow), with the exception of those introduced in the books and feature films, are the sole creation of ErtheChilde and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. There may or may not be a curse in your future as well, so be warned. Remember, all things come in threes, good and bad. Plagiarizing is considered bad.<p>

_Rating:_  
>T for some violence, minor coarse language, minor suggestive adult themes and the possibility of naked House Elves in tea cosies dancing around in the background (Note: No witches, wizards, beings or beasts were harmed in the making of this fic)<p>

_Summary:_  
>The year after Voldemort's defeat, a stranger hands Harry Potter something that sheds light on his mother's forgotten past, revealing that she was more than just a clever Muggleborn witch loved by James Potter and Severus Snape - she was the conduit of an ancient pact sworn centuries before, whose primordial foe hunted her from her first step across the threshold of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...<p>

_Pairing_s: The main/end pairing of this series is going to be **Lily/James**. However, as this is just Lily's first year, there's no real pairing. Also, there is going to be a significant amount of Lily/Severus friendship in this fic.

**Note: This first chapter is just the prologue, so don't stop reading just because you see Harry is featured in this chapter :P**

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><p>– CHAPTER ONE – A <em>Snake in the Lion's Den<em>

Harry Potter frowned at the blood caked under his fingernails as he tossed the twisted clothes hanger into the bin the squat middle-aged man held out to him. He had thought he'd done a good job of getting most of it off of him, but apparently had missed places. If the head of the Department for the Regulation of Portkey Control noticed it, he didn't say anything and instead mechanically gestured toward a long piece of parchment affixed to his desk.

"Just the signature there, Potter, and then we can both go home," the older man told him in a voice that suggested someone who was never quite happy. "'Course, I'd've been home hours ago if you'd've shown up at your appointed time. When you didn't, there was a right bit of trouble reauthorizing a Portkey departure time with the Yanks." He glowered at Harry as though it was his fault, which it was partially. "Takin' down that bloke proved a bit more of a challenge to you than you thought?"

Harry was careful to keep his expression polite as he reached for the quill affixed to the paper and scribbled down his moniker. "I suppose if hunting down Dark wizards was easy, everyone would be doing it, Mr. Chancemore."

"If hunting down Dark wizards was easy, we wouldn't need to spend folks' hard-earned pay on young upstarts prancing around with the title Auror either," the man grumbled. "Especially not ones who make such a big mess of things that they have to concoct a story about a tornado to keep the Muggles from noticing their work, eh?"

Harry gritted his teeth to keep the smile on his face, reflecting not for the first time how much he would have preferred to return to London by broomstick instead of by Portkey. Chancemore had been rather prickly toward him ever since he started at the Ministry of Magic the year before, and although Harry's co-workers insisted that Chancemore's surliness was legendary at the Ministry, and that he needled everyone he came in contact with, it was sometimes hard not to take the man's sly jabs at his expense like a direct provocation.

Chancemore frowned down at the name on the paper, as though intending to detect a forgery, and eventually nodded. "Alright then, Potter, I'll send the paperwork up to you Monday. You need to fill out all the relevant information and send it on to the Portkey Office up on the Sixth. They'll need to include your file in the annual expense reports, so you'd best be more mindful of their deadlines this time."

"Have a good weekend, then, Chancemore," Harry replied politely, and quickly departed before the old man could begin to complain about how enjoying his weekend would be impossible because of Harry's tardiness.|

He strolled across the dark polished wood floor and passed through the large stone hallway lined with fireplaces on both sides, and whose entire chamber echoed with the footsteps and voices of the various peoples scurrying to and fro. Golden symbols glittered across the familiar peacock blue ceiling, and the fireplaces on the left-hand side occasionally emitted bursts of a green powdery substance as people stepped out of them and joined the throng, while the fireplaces on the right were almost hidden by the crowds of people who waited for their turn to get home as the workweek ended. He nodded at several friendly faces as he walked, ignoring the occasional stranger's glance performing the usual wide-eyed stare upon realizing who he was.

He wasn't a particularly interesting looking individual at first glance - in fact, next to the various robed individuals scurrying around the entrance hallway, he seemed positively normal. He was a tall, skinny young man all of nineteen, dressed casually in jeans and a light summer jacket, with a thin face and brilliant green eyes that gazed out from behind round glasses. However, what set him apart from others was a jagged scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning, which was clearly visible beneath his stubbornly untidy jet-black hair. This scar, regarded with fascination and amazement by those who knew his story, was a relic of the night eighteen years before when Voldemort, the most power Dark wizard of all time, had tried and failed to kill him.

Bereft of his parents by that same wizard, Harry had been raised by his maternal aunt and her family, who had kept him completely ignorant of his heritage. It was only when a particularly boisterous and kind-hearted half-giant had tracked him down and given him a letter inviting him to study magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Harry had learned the truth about himself and started on a long journey to unravel the secrets of his and his parents past. The next seven years had been some of the happiest of his life, even during the rough patches that had seen him lose friends and family alike, as well as a fate that had almost killed him as he fought to destroy a resurrected Voldemort.

In the year that followed the death of Voldemort, Harry had been a part of rebuilding and ameliorating the Ministry of Magic as a Dark wizard catcher, one of several who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts and who the newly elected Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt had permitted to bypass their N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) in order to become legitimate Aurors in training. Despite spending the year after Voldemort's demise hunting down and capturing the wizard's followers, it was the first time since becoming aware of the wizarding world that Harry hadn't had to worry about a psychopath plotting to kill him. The remnants of the Voldemort's Death Eaters were few, as the vast majority had turned themselves in for lightened sentences and those who tried to evade capture were usually the most disturbed of the bunch and given to making mistakes that facilitated their capture. Of course, there were always exceptions to the rule, Harry thought, reflecting on the wizard whom he had had to cross an ocean to follow.

Rabastan Lestrange had escaped Ministry arrest after the Battle of Hogwarts and then had led Harry on a less-than-merry chase across Britain before disappearing completely for months, turning up in the United States only several weeks before. British Aurors had very little jurisdiction in the Americas, but finding Lestrange was something Harry had felt was a loose end that needed tying up. An alliance of the British and American Ministries had allowed Harry to travel overseas. There he had picked up the hunt for the runaway Death Eater, and the result had been a vigorous duel that had clouded over the entire Salt Lake City area of Utah and ultimately caused the death of Lestrange.

The man had foolishly cast a spell to create a vortex that had ripped him apart and threatened to destroy the town itself. Harry, who had been close enough to Lestrange to be soaked with the man's blood, had almost been killed by the vortex as well, but had saved himself by Apparating away – unfortunately splinching himself at the shoulder in the process. It had taken every counter-spell and charm that Harry could call up to contain the magical after affects until it petered itself out, nothing more than an atmospheric disturbance that Muggles were calling a freak tornado. He couldn't remember much after that, as he had passed out from blood loss and awoke hours later being tended to by mediwizards.

The situation had gone from bad to worse when he had been persuaded by the American Minister to visit the Salem Witches' Institute to give an account of his defeat of Voldemort in exchange for dropping a possible charge of Exposing Muggles to Magic. What the Minister hadn't mentioned was that the Institute had an all-female population, and he had spent an entire afternoon being hounded by hundreds of young woman who made Romilda Vane seem like a mildly irritating mosquito.

He paused, slowing for a moment in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, which effectively divided the large hall in half.

This statue did not resemble the one which had graced the same spot on Harry's first visit to the ministry four years earlier, nor did it in any way resemble the monstrous obelisk that had taken its place under a harsher regime more than a year before. The larger-than-life-sized statues were still rendered in gold, but the faces and postures were different. Instead of the gilded propaganda piece of Harry's youth, which had depicted a witch and a wizard surrounded by the adoring incarnations of three other magical races, the five figures which now stood there were placed in an outward facing circle, their arms outstretched to clasp the hands of those beside them as water sprayed from behind them.

When the plans to rebuild the fountain had been tabled, and the sculptors demanded models for their work, there had been an intense demand that Harry himself be depicted as the wizard in the fountain, but he had vociferously refused that.

'The only reason I've ever been half as great as what they say about me is because I've had a lot of help," he had stubbornly told Kingsley Shacklebolt not long after the former member of the Order of the Phoenix was sworn in as Minister for Magic. "I wouldn't – many of us wouldn't – be standing here today if it weren't for the foresight of one man. I'm sure you know exactly who I'm talking about."

And so the figure facing the entrance of the Atrium was a wizard, who was tall and thin, with a beard and hair lengthy enough to tuck into the belt of his sweeping robes. His nose was long and crooked, and anyone who had known the man in life would have known that sparkling blue eyes beamed out behind the faience half-moon spectacles that the statue wore. Curiously, the arm reaching out to the right was malformed and shrivelled looking, a bitter trophy of tangling with a rather Dark piece of magic.

The centaur to the right of the wizard was depicted as young, and the sculptors had done well in their depiction of his expression, which was knowing and kind, while at the same time exuding a quality of dignity and pride. In a gesture to promote peace between the race of human and centaur, a male named Firenze had gone against the usual centaur custom of ignoring the affairs of wizards and allowed the sculptors to use his features in the statue. His was one of only two statues to depict one of the living.

Harry smiled sadly at the figure next to the centaur's depiction. While he had been stubborn about Dumbledore immortalized in the statue, he had been absolutely adamant about this depiction, and had for the first time in his life effectively used his fame to get what he wanted. The house-elf that smiled out at the world had huge tennis ball-sized eyes and a long pencil-thin nose, and although as small as all house-elves were in relation to wizards, the proud puff of his chest exuded importance. Unlike the house-elves that Harry had come across, Dobby's likeness had been sculpted finely in clothing: a smart cap, a neat shirt, trousers and mismatched socks. Far from giving off a comical appearance, it was one which instilled curiosity and wonder in most passers-by.

Sadness turned to amusement as he glanced at the fourth figure, a witch dressed in what was meant to be Muggle clothing – jeans, sneakers and a hooded sweatshirt. Her hair flared out around her in a bushiness that was only somewhat diminished by the sleekness of the gold she was moulded from, and her chin jutted out proudly. Most curious about her was the arm stretched toward the elf – the fabric of her shirt was rolled up, and a crude message had been carved there on purpose, proclaiming the word 'Mudblood' to the world. Harry remembered his best friend Hermione Granger's attempts to beg off the 'honour' of being depicted on the fountain being as fervent as his – until her boyfriend and Harry's other best friend, Ron Weasley had jokingly mentioned what king of publicity it would mean for her pet project, the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. After that there had been no stopping her, and she had insisted that she be depicted as she had felt at her lowest – minutes after a madwoman had carved the foul word into her skin.

The last figure that Harry looked upon was a goblin, and one whose presence he was also partially responsible for, albeit indirectly. When the time had come to ask the goblins for one whom they wanted emblazoned in the Ministry of Magic, they had chosen a deceased goblin Griphook, who had become a legend among his people for trying to return a goblin-made sword to the goblins, but had been summoned and killed by Voldemort before he could carry it out.

Harry shook his head, and kept walking. 'It's just like goblins to glorify needless death and violence and call it courage.'

Leaving the fountain behind, Harry murmured a greeting to the watchwizard on duty at the gilded gates separating the Atrium from the lifts, and hurriedly climbed into one that was headed up, ducking several low flying pale-violet interdepartmental memos as he did so. The golden grilles of the lift swung shut, and with a slow rattling of chains, it began to rise.

Ignoring the cool female voice that announced each floor, Harry glanced down at his wrist and the dented gold watch upon it, whose stars in place of hands told him that it was half-past five. 'That will give me an hour and a half before I have to meet Ron and Hermione for dinner. Just enough time to draft the Lestrange report.'

Sunlight streamed through the enchanted windows as Harry got off the lift and strolled down the hallway and through the heavy oak doors that led to the Auror Headquarters. The vast open area was divided into cubicles from which the buzzing chatter and laughter of his co-workers emanated, and several of the memos which had followed him from the lift soared into different parts of the room. Harry let out a sigh of contentment, glad to be back in familiar territory.

"All right, Harry?"

A tall, freckle-faced, long-nosed man with chin-length red hair and several days' growth of beard had spotted him and started toward him, a wide grin on his face. Harry felt an answering grin appear on his face at the sight of his best friend. "Ron. Been keeping out of trouble while I was gone, I hope?"

"That's rich coming from you," Ron Weasley pointed out with a snort. "A tornado, Harry? Really? Can't you do anything small? You're making the rest of us look bad."

"Not hard to do," Harry joked as he clapped Ron on the shoulder. "Or should I remind you who blew up half of Brixton Road in April?"

"The git insulted the Cannons," Ron shrugged. "He was clearly evil, mate."

Harry rolled his eyes. "When are you going to just accept what the rest of us already know? The Cannons won't win until every player is replaced and then pumped up with Felix Felicis."

"When Hedley Chancemore admits his unholy desire for you." Ron grinned wickedly.

The two of them started down toward their cubicles.

"Speaking of Quidditch, Ginny had that interview today," Ron said. "They wanted her to do a trial run with the Holyhead Harpies, to see if she's good to take over as reserve Chaser for next season. They've been in a right fix since Wilda Griffiths joined Puddlemere United. I heard they already signed Valmai Morgan."

"Excellent," Harry said, genuinely impressed. "Though, knowing your sister, she's going to insist I change my team now."

Ron looked serious. "There are some things you should never change for a woman. Your politics and your Quidditch allegiances."

"Says the prat who's been trying to get me to root for his team since I met him."

"That's completely different. Best mate trumps girlfriend, especially when she's my sister."

"Go soak your head, Ron," Harry laughed.

Ron's response was cut off as someone suddenly barrelled out of the cubicle nearest them and bumped into Ron, resulting in two cries of surprise and the sudden explosion of parchment and quills flying into the air.

"Neville!"

"Sorry, Ron!" Neville Longbottom, a tall, round-faced young man with dark blond hair and wide eyes was shuffling around on all fours, trying to pick up everything he had been carrying. "Williamson's on the warpath – apparently Yaxley's been trying to make a deal for a reduced sentence from Azkaban, and getting the paperwork figured is like trying to pry jewellery from a niffler. Williamson wants everyone who worked that case to bring him anything they've got, or he's threatened to demote us to Magical Maintenance until Christmas."

"Damn," Ron grumbled, and hurried off toward his cubicle. "I was on that case." He glanced at Harry. "Sorry, mate, see you later this evening then, if I can get out in time."

"Don't bother rushing," Harry told him. "I've got my own report to write, remember?"

Neville had finally managed to gather all of his materials, and smiled at Harry in a lopsided way. "And we all thought we'd be done with writing papers when we finished Hogwarts."

"No such luck. See you, then, Neville. And my best to Luna."

"And mine to Ginny."

Harry's cubicle was at the farthest end of the row, almost parallel to the hallway leading to the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, which had once been headed by Ron's father, Arthur Weasley, but since the latter's promotion several years before was now headed by a ministry wizard named Perkins. (Of course, that didn't stop Mr. Weasley from poking his head in every so often to examine the various Muggle artefacts that came in!) Harry's cubicle was very similar to those of the other Aurors; the walls were plastered with a bizarre collection of pictures of wanted wizards, Daily Prophet articles, posters of their favourite recreational activities (in Harry's case, several moving pictures from the Quidditch World Cup the year before) and photographs of their families and loved ones. As he neared the booth, his gaze flew automatically to the photograph of a pretty young witch with vibrant red hair, smouldering brown eyes and a wicked grin, who was dressed in the scarlet and gold robes of Gryffindor house's Quidditch team. The photo was of his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, and had been taken several months before when she had led Gryffindor to victory in the House Cup as Quidditch captain.

He paused in his perusal, though, suddenly aware that he was not alone.

Turning into his workspace, he saw that someone was waiting for him. A young woman dressed in a black dragon-hide duster was sitting – if leaning backwards with her heavy boots on his desk could be called sitting – in Harry's cubicle, her back to him so that all he could see was her short, auburn hair. She was staring at the picture of Harry's one-year-old godson, Teddy Lupin, a brown-eyed child who was racing around on a toy broom in some grassy field, his tawny hair changing to brilliant fuchsia as he laughed and waved at Harry, whose portrait self was trying to catch up with him.

She must have heard his approach, because she turned fractionally to look at him, and he could take in her features. She had an oval face, with full lips and a long straight nose. Her wide eyes were an unnaturally deep blue, and were set beneath arched eyebrows. When she pushed herself to her feet, in a movement that was languid and unapologetic, he saw that she was slender and of average height, and under the duster, she wore black denim pants and a navy tank top. Despite the intimidating effect of her presence, Harry felt an irritating note of familiarity, which escaped identification.

"Can I help you?" he finally managed after a moment of puzzling out her identity.

"I have my doubts about that, but go on, give it a go," she replied in the lilting voice of an Irishwoman that would have been pleasant were it not for the distinct undertone of mocking.

Harry frowned.

"Have we met?"

"On a number of occasions. I'd be insulted that you don't remember me, but then again, we lesser mortals always did escape your notice," she replied easily. Harry decided not to rise to her bait, instead raising an eyebrow and waiting for her to continue, which she did after a moment. "Elsie Fenswallow."

She didn't offer her hand, nor would he have taken it if she had. Instead, he took a moment to repeat her name in his thoughts, making the connection.

"I know you from Hogwarts, don't I?" he remarked, striding around his desk and sitting down. "You were in Ginny's year. I remember you from her convocation ceremony."

"Got it in one," she told him coolly, sitting down again, this time refraining from putting her boots on his desk. "I was supposed to be top of the class. If your pal Granger hadn't decided to come back for her N.E.W.T's, I would have been the one making fancy speeches at graduation."

Suddenly recalling several letters from his friend complaining about some girl who had been giving her some trouble when she returned to Hogwarts, Harry was able to put the name to the face. Not for the first time, he was intensely proud of Hermione's intelligence.

"Well, these things happen, don't they," he told her calmly. "Now is there something you need? As fun as this romp through memory lane is, I've got work to do before I leave for the day."

"By which, of course, you mean that you can't be bothered to be seen with a former Slytherin."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

They regarded each other coolly for another moment, and Harry was strongly reminded of his old nemesis, Draco Malfoy.

To his surprise, her entire posture relaxed, and she smirked at him. "You Gryffindors always were so easy to taunt. It's that whole pride thing. I apologize for my manner."

"A Slytherin with a conscience," Harry deadpanned. "Will wonders never cease?"

"Thank your lucky stars I have one, Potter. I'm not saying half the nasty things I'm thinking about you right now," she chuckled. "Granted, they would be counterproductive to my business here, but it'd be a kick."

"I think we're done here," Harry said shortly, standing up and nodding towards the hallway. "You can leave now."

"If only it were that simple," the girl sighed, reaching into her duster. Harry reflexively prepared his own wand, which was fixed with a special harness to his right wrist for easy access. The girl paused, and raised an eyebrow at him. "If you had any sort of observational skills, you'd have noticed that my own wand is stuck down my boot," she told him, and continued groping around in her jacket. He saw that she was right, but didn't relax his grip. "I'm not here to pick a fight with you, Potter – "

"Could have fooled me."

" – there's something I need you to investigate for me. That's your job, isn't it? Be on the look-out for Dark magic and such?"

"Dark wizards."

"Close enough," she said dismissively. "This was left in my possession after the Battle of Hogwarts. You white-hats weren't the only ones to lose loved ones that night. I'm sure you're familiar with journals of this type?"

She had removed a small, thin book and placed it on his desk in front of him. It was bound with a dark-green leather cover that was scuffed from wear, but was still in good shape. Immediately, Harry's thoughts flew to just such a book, which he had come across in his second year of school, and which had hidden more than one sinister secret within it.

"Investigation of cursed objects isn't my job," he told her guardedly, but found his eyes wandering toward the journal of their own accord. There was nary a word on it, and it appeared to be a completely harmless book, but he had learned long ago the books often held the most dangerous of magic. "Trythe Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office or bring it before the Ministry Curse-Breakers down the hall – "

"I'm afraid they wouldn't quite appreciate the contents," she replied glibly, "whereas I have absolutely no doubt that you will."

"And telling me what's in it would, of course, be too much trouble."

"Now, now, Harry." She wagged a finger at him. "Where's your sense of adventure? Half the fun of these things is working it out yourself."

"I've had enough adventure to last me a lifetime."

"Even if it were an adventure to keep your loved ones safe?" she purred, getting up and wandering back to the picture of Teddy. "He really is adorable. I've heard that he lives with you. How does that work, when you're off catching Dark wizards? I suppose then he stays with his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, no?"

By now Harry had stood up abruptly and was glaring at the young woman furiously, his hand once again tightening on his wand. "If you're trying to threaten me into opening that thing, it's not going to work. And if you don't want me to arrest you for trying to intimidate a member of this Department, you'll leave right now."

To her credit, the girl didn't even flinch at the threat; instead, she slowly stood up and gave him a smooth, impertinent salute. "As you wish, of course."

She started to leave.

"And you'll take your cursed book to the proper authorities."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's yours."

"Are you mad?"

She gazed at him levelly, but made no move to recover the book. "There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. And I'm sure once you've gotten off your high horse and examined it, you'll realize why you are one of them. It's important that you accept that."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you don't," she retorted. "However, I would have thought you'd be very interested in the owner of that book." She made a mocking bow. "If you do change your mind though, I'm down in Xenolinguistics on Level Three." She stopped again, sizing him up and then grinned. "Mind you, if you do decide to look into it, be sure to do it when you have a lot of time. It's a rather...absorbing."

Before he could stop her, she had disappeared, almost as quickly as if she had Disapparated. For several seconds, Harry remained still, frowning at the space where the witch had been standing and trying to avoid the almost magnetic pull that the book appeared to be exerting on him.

For all his other qualities, his curiosity and proclivity to a good mystery had always caused him no end to trouble. However, instincts honed over years of getting neck-deep in situations kept him from giving into them. He had no intention of opening the book – not until he performed every test for Dark magic that he knew of at least. Ron had once told him about a book that you could never stop reading, and if this book was anything like the journal of a certain Tom Riddle, he could just imagine being trapped in the damned thing for the rest of his life.

Deciding to ignore it, he went on to write his report, occasionally eying the offending book in case it decided to waltz off of his table.

After the sixth attempt of finishing his opening paragraph and leaving off in the middle of a sentence, Harry decided that his report was going to have to wait until Monday after all. He pulled out his wand and began the laborious task of trying to find whatever Dark magic had been placed upon the book.

(*)

"I tried everything I could think of," Harry told Ron and Hermione later that night as the three of them waited for their food at the Leaky Cauldron. He had the journal safely tucked into the pocket of his travelling cloak, having only decided to keep it on him once he was certain that touching it would not cause him any harm. He refrained from banging it on the table in front of his friends, although he wasn't sure whether this was his adherence to Ministry rules about bringing home items suspected to be cursed, or his own unfathomable reluctance to part with it. "There's absolutely nothing sinister about the book. No invisible ink, no hexes or charms that I could find. Nothing."

"What about an Unsealing Spell?" Hermione asked, a familiar wrinkle in her brow, which always appeared when she was puzzling over something apparently unsolvable. She was dressed smartly in a navy blue cardigan and matching pencil skirt, and her thick hair had been aggressively twisted into a knot that would have reminded him of Professor McGonagall's, except Hermione's hair was a lot more rebellious than their former Transfiguration teacher's "You know that if it's been Sealed, you're not going to find out any of the spells that were used on it."

"Tried it," Harry replied. "Nothing. It's as though it's just a book."

"Maybe it _is_ just a book," Ron interrupted through a mouth full of fresh bread.  
>"Not everything's got some sinister purpose, Harry. If you keep seeing Dark wizards around every corner, you're gonna end up like Mad Eye Moody."<p>

"You mean paranoid or dead?" Harry asked, unsmiling.

"I actually agree with Harry on this one," Hermione said, ignoring Ron as he rolled his eyes and muttered 'Big surprise' under his breath. "I wouldn't trust anything Elsie Fenswallow gave me. In fact, I'm shocked you didn't turn it right into the Ministry Curse-Breakers to work on."

Harry decided not to tell her that he felt a strange pull to the book that had made him want to know what was inside. Instead, he changed the direction of the conversation. "What do you know about her?"

"Mostly that she was typically Slytherin," Hermione said grimly. "Proud, spoiled, sneaky..."

She trailed off, as though struggling to find the word.

"Smart," Ron interjected. "'Mione never got over the fact that she had competition when she went back to school."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do – didn't you say the only reason you beat her in the end was because she got sick during your Potions N.E.W.T and couldn't continue?"

"I'm sure there was more to it than that," Hermione replied airily, and returned her attention to Harry. "The point is, she was rather like Malfoy used to be."

"And still is," Ron added darkly.

"I know that," Harry said, answering Hermione's comment. "I remember that much. I recognized her from the convocation. What I meant was, what do you know about her other than that?"

"You'd have to ask Ginny," Hermione said, lowering her voice as the old barkeep, Tom, came by with an arm full of pub fare, grinning toothlessly at them. The man was getting on in years, but you would never know it from his cheerful disposition. "She knew her all throughout Hogwarts, didn't she? And they were both into Quidditch..."

"Huh?" Harry perked up. "When?"

"Our fifth year on, when you missed the match because of Umbridge," Ron suddenly piped up. "I remember her now too! She was Chaser for Slytherin. First girl I've ever seen on their team. She was a sight – she had those thick glasses and wore – what do you call 'em? Bases?"

"Braces," Hermione clarified. "Which I always thought was strange, considering she's a witch. And a Slytherin. That can't have made her popular, traipsing around school with obviously Muggle hardware."

"Who cares – she was a brute on the pitch. She got fouled so many times – actually, now that I really think of it, I've heard of her more recently than that," Ron interrupted himself excitedly. "I was reading in the Prophet that the Falmouth Falcons wanted her. But she turned them down." He snorted. "Probably weren't vicious enough for her."

"I don't think that's it at all," Hermione mused. "Some of the younger students talking before graduation – her sister's a Gryffindor, would you believe – they were saying she couldn't sign with the Falcons because there wasn't anyone to take care of the family. She's the oldest. The story is, her parents died at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Well, that's what happens when you choose to follow some snake-faced bastard with delusions of grandeur," Ron said loudly.

"Only they didn't," Hermione deadpanned. "Her parents apparently died fighting Death Eaters. No one's really clear on the matter, but anyhow, she's left taking care of the family herself. So she took a job in Xenolinguistics because she's evidently quite good at that sort of thing, and it keeps her able to see her family. I heard Higgins from the Being Division say she's got as much talent for languages as Barty Crouch senior..."

"Let's hope she's not as big a crackpot as he was, or Harry might be in for it."

Harry was silent, thinking over this new information. It appeared discovering anything about the mysterious book in his possession wasn't going to be found by investigating the person who had given it to him, as she appeared to be a walking contradiction.

"Guess I'll have to ask Ginny after all," he sighed.

"Ask me what?"

The three of them looked up. Ginny Weasley had appeared beside them, still dressed in casual Muggle athletic attire and carrying a broom. Her brown eyes flashed wickedly at Harry, and he felt warmth throughout his entire body.

"How your try-out went," he said smoothly, getting up to embrace her. "Ron told me about the Harpies when I got back this afternoon. How'd you do?"

"Well," she replied, taking the empty seat at the table and leaning her broom up against the wall. "You are looking at next season's newest Chaser for the Harpies. I've been signed."

There was a chorus of cheers and well wishes from the group, and Ron called for a round of mead for the table to celebrate.

"That's amazing," Harry told her, squeezing her hand. "But I thought you were only going to be a reserve?"

"Me too. But when I got there and they saw me fly, they told me that one of the other Chasers is going to be taking leave – she's going to have a baby in a few months, so they need someone to step in."

There was another round of congratulations, and after Ginny had ordered some food, she looked pointedly at the trio.

"So what cozy little get-together did I interrupt?" she asked. "You lot look the exact same way you did back at school when you were plotting to hunt old Voldie in the girls' toilet, all huddled up and secretive." They exchanged glances. She narrowed her eyes. "Oh come on; now, I'm not ten years old anymore, for Merlin's sake!"

"It's not that," Harry said quickly, detecting a show of temper that his girlfriend had inherited from her mother. "See, Elsie Fenswallow came to see me today."

Was it his imagination, or did he detect a subtle hardness in Ginny's mouth?

"Did she now?"

"Er, yes," Harry continued. "Had something she wanted me to take a look at – but I wanted to check for any possible curses or hexes before I did – I checked her out too, but she doesn't exist in any of the files we have on Dark wizards, and such, but – she didn't come off as being the most altruistic of people."

"She's not." At their questioning looks, Ginny continued, "She's the most opportunistic, conniving, underhanded she-wolf I've ever met. She's always working an angle – she was like it for the past seven years. I doubt she's changed in the past few months."

"That bad," Harry wondered heavily.

Ginny didn't reply as she took a sip of the mulled mead that Tom had brought her. She cleared her throat. "You'd best be giving whatever you've got from her to be checked for curses, and that's all I'm going to say about that."

Something in her tone and the way her eyes darted to Hermione and Ron told Harry he shouldn't press the issue further, and when Ron decided to go on a diatribe about the personality disorders of various Slytherins and Dark wizards, he let the subject drop. 'For the moment, anyhow.'

The rest of the meal was a lighthearted affair, and before Harry knew it, the four of them were leaving the Leaky Cauldron and strolling onto the streets of London. Hermione was leaning into Ron's arm, the latter looking as flustered as he always did with displays of affection directed at him, and Ginny had laced her fingers through Harry's.

They ambled comfortably for a while, until they reached Hyde Park, where Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny. "Well, I'm off then. Mum and Dad always love to hear about how my day at work went. It's actually become somewhat annoying. They always need to know what I've been up to..."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with that time you erased their entire memory of you and sent them to Australia, would it?" Ron asked glibly, earning a reproachful look from Hermione.

"I guess we'll see each other Monday then," Hermione went on, ignoring him. "And we'll talk to the proper authorities about that book, yes?"

Harry didn't answer, and Hermione didn't notice because Ron had followed her now and was bickering with her.

" – you can make tasteless jokes, but you expect you'll get to see me home, do you Ronald Weasley - ?"

" – come off it, 'Mione, you can't take stuff like that to heart. It'll age you right quick – "

" – oh, so now I'm old?"

Ron groaned and started after her as she stalked off. Harry reflected that she probably wasn't too angry, as if she had been, she would have Apparated away without him. Ron looked back over his shoulder and called out, "Bye, Harry! See you at home, Ginny!" in a tone that warned both her and Harry what he would do if she didn't find her way home before he got there.

Ginny and Harry laughed together, and linked arms. Everything went dark as he was pressed in from all sides, and with a sudden burst of rushing air and whirling colors, the two of them stood in the back alley of the Camden apartment building where Harry lived.

"I still find it slightly funny that you spend your whole life wishing like mad to be back in the wizarding world, and yet you buy a flat in the middle of all these Muggles," Ginny told him as they strolled around to the entrance of the building.

"The last thing I need I need is more fanatic wizards trying to get a look at me," Harry replied easily, digging through his pockets for his keys. "At least in the Muggle world, I get some privacy."

"I suppose..."

He noticed there was a vague note in her voice, and looked up. Ginny was glancing off into space, a frown in her eyes. Remembering her finality on the subject back at the pub, he decided to try his luck.

"So are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

"What?"

"At dinner. I've never seen you so standoffish about anything. Is there something about this Fenswallow bint you didn't want to say while Ron and Hermione were there?"

"Oh, Harry, do we have to?" she sighed.

"Ginny, I'm bound to find out somehow," he said firmly. "I always seem to find out things I'm not supposed to, can't you at least save me the blood and trouble this time?"

"Why do you have to know?" Ginny replied. "As far as you know, it's simply some witch showing up with some book that she says you've got to look into. Maybe it's just that. Can't you just let this one go?" There was real pleading in her voice, and Harry found that although he wanted to do what she asked, he couldn't. Something was tugging at his mind, insisting that he needed to investigate the whole matter. Before he could answer, she spoke again, laughing bitterly. "Of course you can't."

To Harry's consternation, she shook her head and pulled away from him, turning back toward the alley.

"Hey – Ginny – wait - !" He hurried after her, grabbing onto her arm. He felt warmth in his cheeks. "I thought...I thought you were going to stay tonight."

"So did I," she said flatly. When she saw his hurt expression, she leaned in and grasped his face in her hands. "Listen, Harry, I'm not angry with you. It's her I'd like to brain right now." He didn't have to ask who she was talking about. "But...I can see that you really want to figure this out. I wish you didn't. If I were the selfish type, I'd have you promise me you wouldn't. But that wouldn't be fair to you, and it wouldn't be either of our style, so I'm just...I'm going to leave you to it, because I think you need to be by yourself for this."

She let go.

"But Gin –"

"She and I are hardly the dearest of friends," she told him, backing away. Harry hated the look in her eyes, "but I promise you, there won't be any curses or Dark magic on that book. She wants you to read it, and so she would make it as safe for you as possible."

"How do you know all this? What aren't you telling me?"

"Harry...I can't. Just...trust me when I say I really can't tell you anything,"  
>Ginny said miserably. "Now...good night. I love you, and when you've had time to digest everything, I'll come see you. Promise."<p>

Before he could make another move for her, she had Disapparated.

Harry swore, and for a long time paced angrily in front of his flat. Questions flooded his mind, both about the mysterious book and Ginny's sudden change in behaviour. He remembered the last time she had been this avoidant, had been possessed by Voldemort's sixteen-year-old self, but this didn't strike him as the reason.

Running his hand angrily through his hair, he decided that there really was only one way of unravelling the latest mystery that had been thrown his way.

He entered his flat, ignoring the mail that had piled up in the entranceway while he had been gone, tossed his cloak into the living room and took out the journal, the source of all of his latest curiosities.

For a long time, he could only stare at it, trying to talk himself into opening it.  
>When he finally did, he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he read the words at the top of the first page.<p>

_'My__ name is Lily Evans and I live at number Nine, Roscoe Lane in Mill Town with my parents and older sister Petunia...'_

He hardly had time to wonder at this, when the book practically jumped out of his hand and the pages fluttered rapidly until they reached the end of January.

Silvery words glinted on the page, glowing brightly as they began growing larger and larger, until they leapt off the page and began to surround Harry in a whirl of words and whispers. He felt a strange tugging sensation and found himself pulled toward the book, as the words grew and began to assault him, siphoning themselves into him, and the world suddenly went completely white.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Harry's behaviour is based on the idea that it takes a little bit of time for him to completely trust anyone from Slytherin, despite Severus Snape's sacrifices. Of course, we won't hear about all this until later, because the rest of the story is very much Lily-centric...

Feedback is Love!

TBC


	2. Chapter Two: An Owl in the Fridge

_**Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc**_  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

_**"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."**_

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER TWO – <em>An Owl in the Fridge<em>

The Evanses of number nine, Roscoe Lane were a cheerfully average middle-class family that had lived in the picturesque cottage on the outskirts of Mill Town for ten years. The small house had been built over a century earlier and had been occupied by several other families and couples before. Although occasionally in need of a plumber or a newly shingled roof, it was one of the nicer structures in the village and an ideal place to raise a young family.

Perry Evans was a giant of a man with almond-shaped, bright green eyes that always appeared to be laughing and had the build of someone who had once been very athletic but who had gone to seed over the years. He wore his thick dark-red hair short, and a bushy beard of the same colour hid his rather thin lips and uneven teeth. Like the majority of the little village, he was a worker at the mill down by the river, and a very smart handyman, if he did say so himself. His wife, Lisbeth, was a petite, cheery woman with prominent, pale blue eyes that wore her blond hair in closely teased curls around her face. She was an active member of the district's Women's Institute, wrote short political pieces in the town newspaper, and was known around the neighbourhood for her prize winning blueberry scones. The Evanses had two daughters, Petunia and Lily, who were a year apart and could not have been more different than night and day.

Petunia was the older of the girls at twelve, with shoulder-length blond hair which she wore in a bang that did nothing to distract from her watery blue eyes and faintly equine features. Despite her plain appearance, she was well-liked in the small town for her sensible manner and the unadventurous sense of style, which pleased all the most conservative members of Mill Town, making her the universal choice when it came to children being minded. Lily, on the other hand, was quite a different story. A vivacious girl with her father's green eyes and red hair, she took after her mother in temperament, which did nothing to endear her to her neighbours who firmly believed that children should be seen and not heard. There were those in the village who just didn't know what to do with a young girl who liked to play football and rugby instead of skipping and jacks, a girl who spent most of her time with that peculiar Snape boy from Spinner's End, and who always seemed to be around when something odd was happening...

Mr. and Mrs. Evans tended to wave off these concerns whenever a well-meaning neighbour voiced them.

"I'd rather she spend her time outdoors than be lurking around the shops, spending my hard-earned money on shoes and dresses and make-up!" Mr. Evans would point out when his pub friends needled him about his daughter's tomboyish behaviour, and Mrs. Evans would hold herself proudly when confronted by criticism for not forcing her daughter to act in a way that was acceptable for a young girl in a small town. They even tolerated her unusual friendship with the Snape boy, despite the reputation of Spinner's End, believing that she would have little time for him in the fall when she started at Miss Lawson and Miss Cramp's Academy for Girls, Petunia's secondary school. Most importantly, they carefully believed that the curious occurrences - such as when she was five and a tiger escaped from a travelling circus, showing up the next day being led through the main street on a line by Lily ("They must domesticate the animals in order to train them properly.") or when Lily's very strict sixth-grade math teacher was suddenly only able to speak in ancient Greek ("The poor man must have had a stroke. And really, is it any wonder, with the way he shouted?") - were nothing more than everyday oddities to be ignored. The best they could do was scold Lily for acting out of the ordinary.

They had no idea just how far from ordinary their daughter was until the day of her eleventh birthday.

When the family awoke on the final Saturday of January to a cold, overcast day before them, the last thing they expected was any sort of odd disturbance. Mr. Evans sat reading the paper in his dressing gown while Mrs. Evans bustled around the kitchen, presiding over several pans on the stove burners. Mr. Evans chuckled appreciatively at something in the paper, and reached for his coffee cup.

"Twenty-two to six," he rumbled happily as he took a sip. "I told it 'round the pub that Wales would flatten England. Old Tommy Budgell owes me five quid."

"There's not enough around this house that needs paying for, but you're gambling it away?" Mrs. Evans demanded, half-accusing and half-joking. "I thought you said that you'd learned your lesson when you lost the last time?"

"But it's different this time, because I won," he replied smoothly, seizing his wife as she passed by and hauling her into his lap. "Besides, I thought we might have a night out sometime this week. Leave the girls to themselves, have dinner...perhaps catch a film in the cinema?"

"You didn't win _that_ much," Mrs. Evans deadpanned, but her voice was more forgiving and there was a light blush across her cheeks as he leaned in to kiss her soundly. They were interrupted by the arrival of their daughters in the kitchen.

"Mum! Dad! Do you have to?" Petunia had arrived in the kitchen, her spindly arms on her hips and an expression of distaste on her face. "What would the neighbours think if they saw you two?"

"Don't worry, Pet, anyone who matters is off on holiday," Mr. Evans said, winking at his wife as he released her.

"What are you talking about?" Petunia demanded. "It's only the end of January. Everyone's still here."

She didn't appear to understand the joke, and her parents were saved from explaining it to her as Lily appeared behind her sister, stretching and bleary-eyed.

"Morning Mummy, morning Daddy," she greeted with a yawn.

"Happy birthday, luv," Mrs. Evans said, as Mr. Evans gave her a hug. "Presents or breakfast?"

"Both?" Lily asked hopefully, earning a chuckle from her father while Mrs. Evans left the kitchen, returning seconds later with two neatly wrapped gifts.

"Here you go," she said cheerfully.

Within seconds, Lily had the wrapping off of the gifts and was exclaiming over them. She held up a box with a new pair of roller-skates. "Mummy - Daddy, this is great! How did you know I needed a new pair? Oh, and Tuney, this charm bracelet is really pretty!" She held up a thin silver chain that had two little flower-shaped charms hanging from it. "Wherever did you find the charms for it? I love it!"

Petunia shrugged as though the matter was unimportant, but she couldn't disguise her smugness at how well received her gift had been. Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged glances.

Once upon a time, Petunia and Lily had been quite close. They were barely a year apart and had always been the only girls on their street, making them playmates from as far back as either could remember. However, in the past two years, their relationship seemed to have suffered. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were sure that Petunia was merely growing up - she was in a different school from her sister for the first time, and adolescence was a tricky time for a girl - and simply brushed off Petunia's air of constant disapproval directed at Lily as that of an older sister trying to assert her maturity in the face of her younger sister. And while Lily was obviously hurt by this, she had a streak of pride that kept her from begging forgiveness too openly.

"So, does eleven feel any different from ten?" Mr. Evans asked as Lily began to put on her bracelet.

"It feels like I should be allowed to sleep in longer on weekends," she replied with a grin. She glanced around the kitchen for a moment, and then asked, "By the way, did the post come yet?"

"If you're expecting anything from Mam and Tad, they phoned me yesterday while you were in school and said they'd only just sent your birthday gift," Mrs. Evans told her. "It won't be here for another few days, popkin. But Nan and Pop will be by later this evening for dinner."

"It's not that," Lily said. "Only, I'm expecting a letter."

"From who?" Mr. Evans inquired as he went back to his paper, and Petunia sat down to the plate of food her mother had placed before her. "Not got a boyfriend, do you?"

"_Daddy_!"

"I'm just asking. I've got to keep up with these matters, what with you off to secondary in the fall...give me time to prepare!"

They heard the clack of the letter-box and flutter of letters on the entranceway floor.

"I'll get it!" Lily piped up, already out of the kitchen, leaving her parents looking nonplussed and Petunia suspicious.

Lily felt a pang of disappointment when she picked up the post. There were several envelopes lying on the floor, most of them in thin brown envelopes that indicated bills, and another one written in thick, loopy black writing addressed to her father, which he opened right away as Lily returned to the kitchen, starting dejectedly toward the refrigerator to get some milk.

"Is that from my sister?" Mrs. Evans wanted to know. "Rosemary said she would be sending along some pictures from her holiday in Majorca."

"Nothing from your side," Mr. Evans replied, frowning as he read his letter, "but on my end - oh, damn. Great Uncle Taffy's died. Shame, that, he was a family hero - smuggled refugees from France in the war, you know. They called him 'Temeraire' and there was a ceremony - _what the ruddy hell?_!"

Mr. Evans was cut off as something large, brown and feathered whizzed through the kitchen window, which Mrs. Evans had opened to air the kitchen while she cooked; it bounced off of the table and landed in the open refrigerator, between the eggs and the milk. Petunia let out a shriek and fell off her chair and Lily shouted in surprise, letting go of the door handle by mistake and closing the creature inside.

For a moment, they were all quiet, trying to understand what had just popped into their refrigerator, when Lily came to her senses and wrenched the door back open, ducking as the animal burst out of the fridge and landed on the shelf above the sink, hooting at them indignantly.

The four Evanses stared up at the impressive brown eagle owl that was glaring at them reproachful-like, before it turned to Lily and held its leg out impatiently. Attached to it was an off-white envelope covered in scratchy, cramped black writing. Lily immediately made to move toward it, but her mother reached out quickly and held her back.

"Lily, no! It probably has some kind of disease," Mrs. Evans squeaked. "Perry, quick, call Animal Control -"

"Mummy!" Lily protested. "It's got a letter tied to its leg. It's probably for me -"

"Nonsense," Mr. Evans said gruffly, recovering himself from the sudden shock. "Some fool brat no doubt caught the poor devil and tied rubbish to it. Probably a prank. The same thing happened to the Pattersons' dog last week -"

"No, Daddy, it's for me," Lily insisted. "It's probably from Sev or maybe...maybe it's Hogwarts!"

Her parents exchanged blank glances, clearly not understanding what their youngest child was talking about, while Petunia, still on the floor, emitted a strangled squeak of anger and derision, her eyes flitting from the owl to Lily in undisguised resentment.

"Why on earth would that boy send you an owl?" Mrs. Evans sniffed, while her husband asked, "What's Hogwarts? What are you on about?"

The owl seemed to become further agitated and hooted sharply, edging a little closer and holding out its leg more forcibly. Through the complete silence and tension in the kitchen, Lily hesitantly reached for it, ignoring her mother's second cry of warning and half-expecting the owl to duck forward to peck her hands, and freed the animal of its burden.

Her hands shook, not with fear but with anticipation, as she turned the envelope over. Her expression fell slightly at the familiar writing, but she was careful to guard it, still revelling in the novelty of her first bit of owl post.

_Dear_ _Lily_ it said in very cramped, scratchy black writing,  
><em>Happy<em> _Birthday!_ _Have_ _you_ _gotten_ _your_ _letter_ _yet?_ _I_ _got_ _mine_ _on_ _my_ _birthday_ _three_ _weeks_ _ago._ _Sorry_ _I_ _didn't_ _tell_ _you,_ _but_ _I_ _didn't_ _want_ _you_ _to_ _feel_ _bad_ _until_ _you_ _got_ _yours_ _-_ _you_ _have_ _got_ _it,_ _right?_ _Well,_ _even_ _if_ _you_ _don't,_ _someone_ _will_ _come_ _by_ _to_ _give_ _it_ _to_ _you_ _today, I'm_ _sure._ _Mother_ _was_ _pleased_ _at_ _my_ _acceptance._ _She_ _took_ _me_ _to_ _Diagon_ _Alley_ _to_ _get_ _my_ _owl_ _as_ _soon_ _as_ _Father_ _was_ _at_ _work,_ _but_ _she_ _said_ _I_ _could_ _only_ _send_ _you_ _post_ _when_ _I_ _was_ _sure_ _you_ _had_ _your_ _letter._ _I_ _know_ _I'm_ _sending_ _this_ _early,_ _but_ _I_ _couldn't_ _wait_ _to_ _tell_ _you._ _Diagon_ _Alley_ _is_ _amazing;_ _I_ _can't_ _wait_ _until_ _summer_ _when_ _we_ _can_ _go_ _shopping_ _for_ _our_ _wands_ _and_ _our_ _books!_ _Come_ _by_ _the_ _river_ _when_ _you_ _can,  
>Severus<br>PS:_ _Send_ _your_ _reply_ _back_ _with_ _Hermod.  
>PPS:<em> _Sorry_ _if_ _he_ _made_ _a_ _mess,_ _he's_ _got_ _no_ _depth_ _perception._ _It's_ _why_ _we_ _were able to_ _get_ _him_ _so_ _cheap;_ _eagle_ _owls_ _usually_ _go_ _for_ _Galleons_ _more!_

Lily was only just able to finish reading the final postscript before her father gently tugged the letter from her, a look of intense suspicion and curiosity on his face. Lily immediately felt the blood rush to her face and an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Although she was still excited by the owl post, she wished that Severus had had the decency to wait to send it, because she had not yet told her parents exactly why she was not like other girls her age.

Up until that point, no one except Severus and her sister knew that Lily Evans was a witch.

"What kind of parent would buy an owl for their child?" Mrs. Evans demanded. "Is that the pet of choice over in Spinner's End? Lily, I really don't understand what you see in that boy..."

"What letter is he talking about? And what's _diagonally_?" her father wanted to know, his voice getting more agitated the less he understood. "What does he mean, 'shopping for our wands'? Does that mean something to you?" Her father suddenly peered at her suspiciously. "You're not playing one of those new-fangled table-top fantasy-games with him, are you? Because that will rot your brains just as fast as that damned rock and roll music will."

"No, Daddy - it's not that -," Lily hedged, trying to think of a way to explain. From her place on the floor, Petunia looked annoyingly smug, obviously enjoying Lily's discomfort. She had never approved or accepted what Severus Snape had told Lily almost two years earlier, that all of the strange things that happened to her and which she caused to happen were the mark of a witch. On the windowsill, the owl hooted. "It's just - haven't you ever wondered - I mean, you both must have noticed that...well...I'm not exactly normal, am I?"

"What's that got to do with -?"

Her mother was cut off as the owl suddenly ruffled its shoulders importantly and took off out of the window. There was a long silence at the table, no one knowing what to say after such a bizarre interruption.

Of course, the owl was no comparison to what happened next.

There was a deafening crack, rather like a loud whip, and suddenly, there was a tall, balding man sitting on the kitchen table, wiping some type of green sludge from his face.

Lily's mother cried out and staggered backward into the stove, promptly singing part of her apron, while her father swore loudly in Welsh, starting so fast that he dropped the post into his plate of kippers. Petunia whimpered, curling into a ball, as though she was practicing an air-raid drill.

The man, in the meantime, ignored them and pushed himself off of the table, continuing to wipe the mulch from his face, oblivious to the strawberry preserves and toast that were sticking to the back of his winter coat. "Curse Alberic Grunnion for ever discovering Dungbombs - threw off my concentration completely - might have Apparated into a tree if I hadn't moved at the last second! I'll see Weatherby in a month of detentions for this, no doubt about it!"

The strange man finally looked around at his surrounding, looking remarkably like an owl himself, and his eyes widened at the sight of the Evanses huddled at the other end of the kitchen.

"Merlin's beard! I do apologize! I had intended to arrive outside your home and greet you in Muggle form; however...your poet Burns did say something about the best-laid plans."

The Evanses, except for Lily, still seemed unable to comprehend how a stranger had just appeared in their kitchen out of nowhere. She, however, seemed more appreciative and awed. The strange man noticed this and gave a rather enthusiastic chuckle of triumph.

"I take it that you are Miss Lily Evans?" he asked conversationally.

"Y-yes," she managed, feeling as though there was a rather large bubble of glee inflating rapidly inside her.

"Well, you don't seem quite as surprised as the other Muggle-borns I've seen," the man said easily, digging around in his coat for something. Mr. Evans tensed, as though expecting a weapon, and didn't relax even when the only thing the man pulled out was a thick, off-white envelope addressed in green ink and held together by a bright, red wax seal.

"I...I've been expecting you," Lily whispered, trembling with excitement and pointedly ignoring the shocked expression on her mother's face. "My friend Severus -"

"Oh yes, Mr. Snape," the man said, dismissive. Petunia mouthed wordlessly in the background. "That young man has been writing the school for the last three weeks, wanting to know when you would get your letter and trying to impress upon us how important it was that you did. I take it he informed you of your circumstances? Highly irregular, that; if he had been just a little older, he'd have had the Ministry after him for talking about magic in front of Muggles, even if you are what you are. One can never be too careful. It was quite irresponsible of his mother not to warn him."

"Will...will he go to Azkaban?" Lily asked fearfully.

The owlish man peered at her, and the burst out laughing. "So you know about Azkaban too? Well, I must say, you're turning out to be the best informed of all of them. No, child, you don't get arrested for that sort of thing - although with the way times have been lately - never mind. No, he would simply have to pay a fine - for a first offense, anyhow. Now that he's been accepted and soon to buy a wand, though - well, the Ministry takes underage magic very seriously once there's a wand involved. Much harder to hide from Muggles."

Lily's father finally seemed to regain his ability to speak, although, for the moment, it was only within his ability to splutter indignantly, "Who the devil are you -?"

"Ah, yes, so sorry, I got a little carried away," the man said, and bowed deeply, "I am Professor Julius Pimburrow. I teach Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"- how do you know my daughter, and what is this nonsense about magic and Muggers!"

"Muggles, my dear man," the stranger assured him, mopping fruitlessly at the green sludge. "Blast it all!" He finally pulled out a long, thin rod and waved it at the stubborn sludge. "_Scourgify_!" To the shock and awe of the Evanses, the gunk disappeared from the man's coat, leaving not even a spot here it had once been. He examined it for a moment, and then returned his attention to the stunned Mr. Evans. "'Muggle' is the term wizards give to non-magical folks such as yourselves and your lovely daughter -" He nodded at Petunia, who, nonetheless, appeared to be insulted by the man's well-meaning compliment. "- But as I'm sure you've noticed, Lily is something special." He beamed at Lily. "She is what we called a Muggle-born witch, and although it's rare, it is by no means unheard of - in fact, by her reaction, she already has heard of it, so there!"

Mr. and Mrs. Evans stared, evidentially not seeing what was 'there'. Professor Pimburrow appeared to notice this and cleared his throat.

"Er, Miss Evans, while I'm glad you are taking this well, perhaps you should let your parents see that letter?"

"Oh! Right!" She fumbled with the paper, and pressed it into her father's hands. It took him several seconds before he collected his wits enough to work open the flap of the envelope, and even when he managed it he simply stared at the words on the parchment as though trying to make sense of them.

"What does it say, Perry?" Mrs. Evans asked in a tremulous voice.

He hesitated, glanced at Lily as though wanting her to suddenly shout 'April Fool!' and then began to read out loud:

"_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
>Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE<br>(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme  
>Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)<em>

_Dear Miss Evans,  
>We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than August 30.<br>Yours sincerely,  
>Minerva McGonagall<br>Deputy Headmistress."_

He stopped reading, and Lily, whose eyes had been closed during the entire recitation, breathed a sigh of contentment. Although she had expected it for months now, the words were so official, she found herself trembling, her heart beating loudly in her ears.

"No doubt the first words out of your mouth will be 'is this a joke' or something else of that sort," Julius Pimburrow soothed. "I can assure you this is no joke. Hogwarts is a boarding school for children with special abilities - children who can do magic."

"Magic," Mr. Evans echoed sceptically. "Like card-tricks and sawing people in half?"

"Those are mere Muggle imitations of magic," Professor Pimburrow said dismissively. "What we teach is more complex and infinitely older. Students learn useful things such as how to brew potions, how to transfigure objects, how to defend themselves against the Dark Arts, how to fly -"

"But she already knows how to fly, why go to school for it?" Petunia piped up, her sudden outburst causing Lily to jump. She had forgotten that her sister was in the room. At the attention, Petunia, who had picked herself up off of the floor, instantly clamped her mouth shut as four pairs of eyes goggled at her.

"What?" Mr. Evans demanded.

"Petunia!" Mrs. Evans cried. "Did you know about this?"

"Yes - I mean, no - I mean -" Petunia was bright pink now, having divulged more than she had let on knowing. She sent a murderous glance at her sister and clamped her mouth shut.

Mr. Evans was considering Lily. "You've flown?"

"Not really 'flown'," she evaded. "It was more...gliding."

"A common manifestation of magic in young witches," Professor Pimburrow assured her parents, "but what I meant by my earlier comment was learning to fly on broomsticks. We have an excellent Quidditch team at Hogwarts; many of those players have gone on to national teams."

"We always knew Lily was special, but this...this is different from anything we would have imagined." Her mother's voice was weak, and Lily noticed that her parents were staring at her as though they had never seen her before. Her father had fallen into a slump on his chair, looking altogether lost. The uncomfortable lull was broken by Petunia.

"Lily, don't be thick - even if you are a...a witch," Petunia's voice was high and false, the way it always got when she was frazzled or stressed, and she said the word 'witch' as though it was a vulgar curse word. "You're going to my school. Not some nutterhouse with a headmaster named Elkas Dumblebum!"

"Actually, it's Albus Dumbledore," Pimburrow corrected, "and he is one of the most well-respected wizards in history. He singlehandedly defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald."

"Grindel-who?" Mr. Evans wanted to know.

"You wouldn't know him," Pimburrow said gently, "but he did have a rather large effect on your world. I'm sure you've heard of the destruction of Nagasaki?"

Mrs. Evans gasped. "That's impossible, that was an atom bomb!"

"No, my dear lady, it was the work of Dark Wizards. There were so many memories that needed modifying afterward that the Ministry of Magic had to pull people from all over the Ministry to lend a hand," Pimburrow explained.

"This has got to be a joke," Petunia murmured faintly, almost desperately.

"No, this is no joke - although I did hear an excellent one about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who walk into a bar and -" He noticed the blank stares from the Evanses, and cut himself off. " - Er, apologies. At Hogwarts we teach students not only to use magic, but to control it. Most witches and wizards inadvertently use magic from a young age, which allows the Ministry -"

"Ministry?"

"Yes, the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry keeps tabs on young witches and wizards, and tries to ensure that magic remains hidden from the Muggles."

"But why hide it?" Petunia demanded.

"An excellent question," Professor Pimburrow allowed. "It's actually one that I often pose on end of the year exams. There are several reasons for it, but most of them boil down, in one way or another, to the Muggle - or even the human - proclivity, if you consider it - to laziness. If Muggles knew the existence of magic and wizards, they would want instant solutions to their problems. Or worse - if the solutions turned out to cause more harm than good because of the ineptitude of Muggles, wizardkind would be persecuted. It has happened before, you know, there have been several resurgences of witch hunting within the last five hundred years alone."

"What about normal people?" Petunia wanted to know. "If she goes, can't I go?"

Pimburrow laughed heartily, as though the thought had never occurred to him.

"A Muggle at Hogwarts? I believe Salazar Slytherin might turn over in his grave - whichever slimy rock that might be under." He smiled at Petunia in what Lily was sure he thought was a kind smile, but which came off as rather patronizing. "I'm afraid not, young lady. Hogwarts was built to educate magical children, not Muggles."

"But -"

"The rules are clear," Pimburrow said firmly. "Even with Dumbledore's pro-Muggle notions, I don't believe a Muggle at Hogwarts will ever be accepted by the board of governors." He shook his head, as though that closed the matter, and concentrated on Lily again. "Hogwarts is the premier magical institute in the United Kingdom. In all of Europe, I would say, although I'm sure others would disagree. Your daughter is destined for an excellent education. This really is an opportunity only she can take advantage of."

Lily tried to understand the expressions her parents had turned toward her. From the slightly glazed look, she had a feeling that they were thinking of all the times something strange had happened. There had been the week when she had wished for a pet and a whole litter of kittens had been found under her bed. Or the time when she had been playing with a cousin who had thrown some mud at her and seconds later had fallen into the manure pit, which had miraculously moved twenty-feet from its original spot. And then, the previous Christmas she has been complaining about the cold and the Christmas tree had spontaneously burst into flames.

"How much does this...school cost?" Mr. Evans asked lightly.

"Dad! You're not seriously considering -!" Petunia's outburst was cut off by a look from her father, and Professor Pimburrow sent her a quelling glance before answering Mr. Evans.

"Each year's tuition comes to about twenty-five hundred British pounds," Pimburrow said, nodding to the parchment in Mr. Evans' hand. "You can transfer that to wizard currency at Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley. All the information is there in the packages, along with the first-year book list and supply list."

Mrs. Evans stepped forward tentatively. "But we haven't...that's almost twice what we're paying for Petunia, and that's just for the first year. What about books and...and other essentials?"

"Never fear, Madam," Pimburrow reassured her. "There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to pay for their schooling. Many of our Muggle-born students take advantage of it and are able to pay the school back within the first few years after entering the workforce."

"And what sort of future would Lily have if she were to attend?" Mrs. Evans continued shrewdly. "I don't want to shell out any amount of money if she's going to come out of it a complete ignoramus. My girls are just as smart as any boy, and I won't have Lily passed over for some...some non-wizard boy just because she's lacking in the proper education."

"Well, upon completion of her schooling, she would be prepared for any number of high paying professions in the wizarding world. Cursebreaker, Auror, Accidental Magic Reversal - there are literally endless opportunities."

"But what if she decides she doesn't want to work as an 'Or-or'?" Mr. Evans pressed. "What if she wants a job in the real world?"

Pimburrow frowned at Lily's father, and Lily felt slightly embarrassed for her father.

"Mr. Evans, the wizarding world is just as real as the Muggle world. They exist simultaneously and each depends upon the other for its continued survival." He glanced surreptitiously down at his watch, a curious contraption that had stars in place of numbers. "If your daughter does indeed choose to work as a Muggle after completing Hogwarts, which I doubt she will, we offer quite a few classes that would offer a solid base in some of your fields of study. In addition to my own class, we offer Muggle Art and Muggle Music, and we pay considerable attention to the Classical languages and Classical history. History of Magic also addresses some eras in Muggle history whenever they are relevant to wizarding events."

"Art and music," Mr. Evans echoed. "I suppose that's an acceptable medium."

"And I know several women from school who have gone to Oxford to study the Classics," Mrs. Evans piped up hesitantly. "It's a challenging field, but a respectable one."

"You don't actually believe this, do you?" Petunia demanded, her gaze shifting frantically between her parents as though she was becoming aware of losing allies.

"Petunia, for goodness' sake, hold your tongue," Mrs. Evans told her in a quiet aside. "There's obviously more to this than we thought. And it does explain a great deal."

"First the owl this morning, and now this Pimburrow," Mr. Evans added, nodding briefly at the wizard in their kitchen, "I find myself reluctant not to believe...So I suppose we will simply have to pop over to this -" he glanced rashly at the parchment still gripped tightly in his hands, squinting at the words, as though they were being deliberately difficult for him to read out - "Diagon Alley, and see that it's not a joke."

"An excellent idea," Pimburrow agreed. "Oh, I'm utterly elated that you both are taking this so well. It sometimes takes a lot more convincing to get Muggle parents to realize the door opening for their children - I once had to turn a man into a dormouse before he would believe that magic existed. I'm actually quite surprised he still let his son attend the school after that, but there you have it!" He glanced again at his strange watch. "Now, should you be needing an escort to Diagon Alley, we can certainly provide you with one -"

"Actually," Lily finally managed to speak up, "my friend Severus knows where it is. He could show me -" she caught her parents' looks, "- er, us?"

"Perhaps," her mother said shortly, her tone warning Lily not to bring any of their personal matters up in front of the strange wizard.

"Then I am to assume you will be attending?" Pimburrow asked.

Lily opened her mouth to accept, but was cut off by her mother again.

"We will discuss it."

"Wonderful," Pimburrow remarked, cheerful. "Then do be sure to send an owl before the end of August." He reached into his coat again and brought out a small garish looking box of Eeylops Premium Owl Treats. "I understand you probably don't have your own owl, but if you leave these out at night you will attract any owl passing. You might be able to coax it to deliver your letter. If not, stop at the Owlery in Diagon Alley and send your post from there." Ignoring the uncertain looks, he tipped his hat. "Now I'm afraid I will have to go, so many other families to visit today, and I don't want to miss any of them. We teachers only really get the weekends to make these little trips, and on top of all of the essays I have to look at..."

With another bow toward the Evans family, the tall man was gone with another crack that had Petunia screaming out loud and Mrs. Evans covering her ears.

It was several moments before the family recovered, and Lily looked at her father askance.

Mr. Evans looked quite ruffled, whether by the news that his daughter was a witch or that a man had disappeared in the blink of an eye, she wasn't sure. He didn't meet Lily's eyes as he looked over the parchment again, a furrow in his brow.

"I suppose..." he began, his voice coming out so weakly that he had to clear his throat before he tried again. "I suppose you'll have to ask the boy if you can borrow his feathered beast. Of course, I'd be careful near it, Lily, the creature seemed a mite vengeful to me."

Mrs. Evans turned slowly to the stove, as though performing the familiar action would help her recover from the events of the morning. Still, she kept sending her daughter rather transfixed glances out of the corner of her eye when she thought Lily wasn't looking.

Out of the four of them, Petunia appeared to be the most trapped in disbelief. Her entire face was flushed with anger that made her eyes almost bulge out.

"You're mad - you're all bloody mad!"

"Petunia, don't you take that tone with us -" Mr. Evans warned, but his daughter's passion seemed to cancel any fear of punishment she may have had.

"This is barmy - I can't believe you and Mummy are going along with all of this! After you told her all the time that she wasn't supposed to act strange if she could help it? And now you're actually considering this...this scam!"

"Mind your tone, Petunia," Mrs. Evans said evenly as she absently added scrambled eggs to her coffee, her hands still a little shaky.

"I bet that's what it is!" Petunia cried, having worked herself into a true fury. "It's all about swindling honest people like you and Daddy out of their money! I'm sure of it!"

"I'd like to meet the man who thought to send in a trained letter carrying owl and a man who could disappear without needing a puff of smoke to disguise him," Mr. Evans deadpanned, "or did you not see how he cleaned his coat?"

"So some strange man trying to be the next Houdini tells you she's a witch and you immediately think it's a good idea to send her to some school for this rubbish?"

"We have decided nothing yet," Mrs. Evans replied firmly. "We will simply be taking a trip down to this Diagon Alley one day - incidentally, where is it, dear?"

"London," Mr. Evans said easily, barely glancing at the paper this time. Lily had a feeling that he had read it so many times in the past few minutes to discern the truth of it that he might have memorized it. "It's around Charing Cross Road, this says."

"There you go," Mrs. Evans told her older daughter. "There's no harm in looking things over. If we find out it's one big scam, we can always come home."

"So what if it's not?" Petunia demanded hotly. "No one answered me - even if it isn't a scam, Lily's name is down for my school, isn't it? I've already told all of my teachers and friends that she would be coming next year, and now you're saying you might not?"

"I don't see why she should," Mr. Evans said lightly. "If she has a chance to learn magic...it might be useful, you know."

Petunia sputtered at the unintended insult, and Lily took the momentary pause in her sister's tirade to interject, "Tuney, you knew I wanted to go to Hogwarts when Sev told me about it."

Petunia looked as though she had been slapped, and then with a sound between a growl and a hiss in her throat, she turned on her heel and stalked from the room.

"Petunia!" Mrs. Evans bristled, but the only answer she received was the slam of a door which shook the small house. She sighed. "Don't worry, popkin, she's only a wee bit ruffled. She was set on you coming to her school, that's all."

Lily felt a horribly guilty feeling spring up in the pit of her stomach that warred with her excitement at the fact that her parents were even considering allowing her to go to Hogwarts.

Her father seemed to read her mind.

"While we're on the subject, Lily, how is it that Petunia came to know about this school before we did? More importantly, how did she know you were a witch before us?" He furrowed his brow. "When did you first find out? And why didn't you tell your mother or me?"

"Tuney was with me," Lily said miserably, fingering her new charm bracelet. "It was two years ago. We were at the playground near Mr. Saunders field, and I...well...I was showing off. I jumped off the swings and sort of flew." Her parents were staring at her. "Well, glided, actually, like I said. But Tuney got upset with me, because Mummy had made me promise not to do...odd things. And then out of nowhere this boy appears and tells me the reason I could do it was because I was a witch." Lily hesitantly gauged her parents' reactions. "I didn't believe him at first, but I started seeing him a lot more, and we got to talking. Severus knew all about it, because his mum's a witch, see?"

Mr. Evans shook his head. "That explains a lot about what I've heard of that woman."

Mrs. Evans shushed him, evidently intent on her daughter's tale. "Go on, dear."

"That's how we became friends and that's what we talk about all the time," Lily said. "And Sev says even though I'm Muggle-born it makes no difference, that I'll be just as good at magic as anyone else, and -" and it was here where she appeared to come to the crux of her story. "- Oh Mummy, please say I can go? I've never wanted anything more! Sev snuck a book about Charms out of his mum's study one day and showed me some of the spells - there's spells for all kinds of things! Opening locks, healing injuries, fixing broken things - please, Daddy, can I?"

Mr. and Mrs. Evans sat in silence for a long while, having some kind of conversation with one another without even opening their mouths. Lily glanced back and forth between them, her heart beating, feeling as though her life depended on the answer. Mrs. Evans gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Alright, Lily," Mr. Evans said heavily, "if this Hogwarts turns out to be a real school and all, you can go. I'm not sure where we'll get the money for it, but like that old bloke said..." He shook the parchment meaningfully. "We'll look into it."

"Thank you!" Lily squealed, throwing herself at her father and then at her mother. "Oh, this is the best birthday present in the world! The only thing that could make it better would be..." She trailed off, her smile ebbing away at a thought. "I just wish Petunia weren't so cross with me."

"You'll have to expect her to be in a bit of a strop, popkin," Mrs. Evans told her reasonably. "It's not just the fact you won't be going to her school. I suspect she's a mite jealous. You saw how she was asking Mr. Pimburrow if Muck -Mugger - if non-wizards could go to magic school. She probably thought if you could go to a different school, perhaps she could as well."

Lily nodded, slightly unconvinced, and poked at the eggs on her plate.

An idea occurred to her, and she glanced up hopefully. "Can I go tell Sev?"

Her parents only hesitated a moment, as though resigning themselves to the fact that their daughter was probably going to remain friends with the Snape boy longer than they had hoped. Her mother nodded.

"I suppose so," she said. "But...the regular way, dear - by walking there. And I don't want you near Spinner's End past three o'clock. You get some weird types down there." Mr. Evans chuckled nervously, and Mrs. Evans, realizing what she had said, coloured and tittered as well. "Weird_er_. Not the magical type."

"Great!" Lily cried, her discomfort abating temporarily. "I'll go now! See you later!"

"Lily, get back here and finish - don't you dare leave this house without a coat, young lady, it's the middle of winter - oh, why bother? She's already gone," Mrs. Evans huffed. She shook her head. "That girl had better hope that wizards have a cure for pneumonia, because she's well on her way to catching it if she keeps doing that..."

* * *

><p>See the button down there? Love the button - <em>use<em> the button.

TBC


	3. Chapter Three: The Boy from Spinners End

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER THREE – <em>The Boy from Spinner's End<em>

The town of Cokeworth had been rechristened 'Mill Town' by the residents when the textile mill was built in the 1820's, and the vast majority of the population lived in the older part of town which had started out as a hamlet centuries before. Although the street Lily lived on had been around for at least a hundred years, it was still part of the 'new' neighbourhood and thus divided from the 'old' town by an invisible line one only noticed once one had crossed it. Somewhere between Dickens Street and Rowling Road, the neatly trimmed lawns and window-sill flower boxes disappeared, replaced instead by the uniform industrial bars and steel that characterized the row houses of the old town.

The mill chimney hovered over the streets in what would have been an impressive way, had it not been for the billowing, white clouds of smoke that seemed to hem it in from all sides. The farther Lily walked, the more prominent the smell of sewage and rot became, carried by the crisp winter breeze. She knew from experience that it was ten times more powerful during the summer, and as ever, felt particularly bad for her friend having to live with it all of the time. She passed rows and rows of dilapidated brick houses, which had been half-heartedly decorated with muslin curtains and curios which were stained yellow and brown from their exposure to the smoggy air, and the snow itself was gray and muddy from the many footsteps that had walked the narrow cobbled roads.

Several women nodded at her from their kitchen windows, recognizing her from her other jaunts down to the Snape house, and she carefully avoided the gaze of a group of rough looking girls her age. At last she reached the street called Spinner's End, which was separated from the river only by a line of old railings, and wandered its length before she reached the very last house, whose every window was covered with heavy blinds of an ugly roan colour.

Lily had never been inside Severus' home, mostly because she had never been invited. Severus always said it was because his parents didn't like company, but Lily knew that he was ashamed of the squalor he lived in. Usually it was he who traipsed up to Roscoe Lane to ask if she could come out, but there had been a few instances where she had sought him at his home. This time was no different from the others, she thought with a bit of a shiver as she knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" demanded a brusque voice from inside.

"It's me, Lily."

"Lily who?" The door opened fractionally, a rusted door chain keeping it from going any wider, and a pair of black eyes stared suspiciously out from it. Mrs. Snape was as thin and sallow as her son, with thinning black hair, a long face and thick eyebrows that were always pulled into a sullen expression. The scent of cooking sherry and mildew wafted from within the house.

"Lily Evans," she said patiently, even though she had spoken to Mrs. Snape many times, and as far as she knew, was the only Lily for miles. "Is Severus at home?"

Mrs. Snape paused for a moment, glanced about furtively, and then replied in a low whisper, "He's down by the river bank. And tell him...best not to come home for a while, alright?"

Lily opened her mouth to ask why, but was cut off from a loud, angry voice within the house.

"Eileen! Who's at the door?"

"No one, dear," Mrs. Snape said loudly, in a high, false voice. "Someone selling something."

"Tell them to get the hell off my property -"

The door was closed in Lily's face, and she simply stood for a spell, unsure of how to react. It wasn't the coolest reception she had ever received from Severus' mother, but neither was it the most friendly. And she had never before even heard Severus' father - whenever she had been by the house, he was usually working down at the textile mill. Lily's father had once said that Tobias Snape loved work more than he loved breathing, and when he wasn't working, he took out his frustration at not working on his family.

Deciding there was nothing to be gained by waiting around on the doorstep, Lily decided to make her way down to the thicket where she and Severus spent most of their time in the summer. It was the only picturesque and natural looking place in Mill Town, not yet taken and developed by contractors into more ugly row houses or parking spaces, and the river that ran by it had not yet been reached by quite as much pollution. In the summer it was a beautiful place, where the river threw the reflections of sunlight onto the tree trunks, and the leafy canopies provided a pleasant shade. In the winter it was as barren as the surrounding down, the naked tree trunks jutting up from the snow, which was also tinged with gray from the smog, and the river was thinly iced over.

It took twice as long to reach the small grove as it had taken her to walk from her house, even though she was running to keep warm. She wished that she had grabbed more than just her pullover, but the weather had seemed unnaturally warm when she left.

'Maybe that was just the excitement,' she thought grimly, her breath coming in puffs and her insides frosting over with every inhalation.

By the time she reached the place, she had begun to shiver, but felt significantly warmed up. It was easy to make out Severus several yards away, because he would have stuck out even if he hadn't been surrounded by snow. His back was to her, and he was drawing something in the snow with a broken tree branch. The owl that had broken into Lily's kitchen that morning was perched on one of the balding tree branches, watching its owner intently.

Looking at him, it was obvious why her family and neighbours thought that Severus was an odd, if not unsuitable, playmate for her. He was a thin-faced child with a hooked nose and sallow complexion gained from staying indoors much of his time to avoid the gangs of bullies that lurked down Spinner's End and who had no mercy for small, skinny boys who walked hunched over, black eyes fixed on the floor lest he catch someone's attention. His stringy black hair was overlong and unevenly cut, as though he had tried to trim it himself, and it was often dirty because - he had told her in secret - his father sometimes forgot to pay the water bill and his mother was too ill to see to his care. His clothes were frequently in varying stages of disrepair, although usually very clean. Lily had found out the reason for this one day when she had come by the river near Snape's home and happened upon her friend determinedly scrubbing his laundry in the cold water, his face stained with tears of anger and frustration. She had quietly left, not wanting him to know what she had seen.

Today he was dressed in a shabby winter coat she was sure belonged to his mother, and a patched cap that didn't even cover his ears. His boots had been stuffed with rags in the toe, both to fill the many holes and to help them fit better as they were clearly made for a grown man.

When she had first met Severus, it had been a mixture of curiosity at what he knew about magic and pity that anyone could be as unfortunate as he seemed which had drawn her to him. But over the years, Lily had learned that Severus refused to be pitied, revealing himself to be a proud, thick-skinned boy who could defend himself with cutting remarks and cool intelligence, which tended to counter her own spitfire temper. She soon forgot to notice his odd appearance, paying attention only to the way his eyes glittered joyfully when he talked about magic and Hogwarts, or how his face became flushed with dull colour whenever she asked him something he knew more about than she did. And the more her sister pulled away from her, the more Severus became her friend and confidant, a brother she had never had.

"All right, Sev?" she called out, and he whirled around, brushing out whatever he had been drawing with a rapid kick of snow. When he spotted her, his expression lit up like Christmas had come again.

"Did you get it?" he wanted to know before anything else, hurrying over to her and taking no notice as he staggered over the too long coat. "What am I saying? Of course you got it - are your parents going to let you come?"

"Yes!" Lily replied breathlessly. "They're probably talking about it now, but I asked and they said I could - and oh, Severus, isn't it wonderful?"

He appeared as happy as she felt, his eyes glinting with a strange triumph that she decided to interpret as pride.

"And you were afraid you wouldn't get in," he teased her slyly, grinning through crooked teeth. "Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?"

"Only you," she replied cheerfully. "Oh, but I can't wait! And we still have to wait until school ends and summer holidays - how am I going to be able to wait that long?"

"My mum has some old spell-books at home," Severus considered thoughtfully. "We could probably practice with them until we get our schoolbooks. Nothing that needs a wand, of course - but we could practice Potions!" His eyes gleamed with excitement. "I've got loads of ingredients at home, and most of the stuff they ask for is actually common in the Muggle world too. And with magic, you need to know the theory before you can actually perform spells - imagine, getting to Hogwarts and us already knowing how to do all the really hard spells? We'll be top of the year right off!"

"Would that be...allowed?" Lily asked tentatively, her thoughts on a story Severus had told her long ago about the ghoulish guards of the wizard prison called Azkaban.

"Of course," Severus replied dismissively. "I already told you, you're not going to get in trouble using magic until after we go to Hogwarts. I think they only put the Trace on you when you buy your wand, but not before that. And besides, Potions is a lot more refined then spell work. It's supposed to be really challenging. It should keep us busy until September."

"Alright," Lily agreed, and then took a mock scolding tone, "but nothing icky, like love potions or poisons, alright?" Severus looked as though he was considering something, and Lily raised her voice. "_Alright_, Sev?"

"Yeah," he muttered finally, in what she thought was a regretful tone, but he covered it up almost immediately and changed the subject. He glanced up at Hermod the owl, and said, "Oh yeah, I wanted to say 'Happy Birthday' again!"

"You did that fine this morning," Lily deadpanned, as the two friends wandered over closer to the bird. "Your owl got to me before my Hogwarts letter. My parents might have sent me off to the loony bin if Mr. Pim - if Professor Pimburrow hadn't showed up about a second later and explained about school."

"Sorry," he said, looking momentarily chastised. And then he brightened, and began to ruffle through the inside of his coat. "Here, I got you this - well, I convinced Mother to get it while she was out - but it was my idea. Sorry there's no wrapping, we, er, don't have any good wrapping paper at home."

He looked embarrassed, and Lily pretended not to notice while she examined what he held out to her. It was a small, thin book bound in rich green leather and, unlike anything she had ever seen Snape possess, was obviously new.

"It's an enchanted journal," he explained nervously, "to store memories in. I wanted to get you a Pensieve, but...well, you need to know how to use a wand for those, or much more powerful magic than either of us knows at the moment. But these come with special quills that channel memories as you write them - got a pack of those in my pocket too - I thought...I figured you'd want to keep track when we start at Hogwarts."

Lily opened a page and fingered the smooth parchment lightly.

"Severus, this is brill," she told him earnestly. "It's really thoughtful. You'll have to show me how it works."

His face coloured a little, and he looked away from her.

Just as quickly, though, the expression changed to annoyance and distaste. Before Lily could ask what it was, she was grabbed roughly from behind, her new present pulled from her hands as she fell backward into the snow.

"Hey!" she cried out, glaring up at her assailant.

Three girls had come up behind her while she wasn't looking, and were now examining the green book with unpleasant looks on their faces. She recognized the brown haired, rat-faced girl immediately as Mindy Peters, a Spinner's End girl who had tried to bully Lily at school since she started, as well as two others that went to the local comprehensive.

"What's this you're so chuffed about?" Mindy sneered, pretending to fan herself with the book. "Awful plain for some posh bird from the pretty side - how'd you think this was going to impress her, Snape?"

"Get stuffed!" Severus fumed, starting forward to grab the journal, but was instantly rebuffed. All three of the girls were significantly larger and heavier than he was.

Mindy laughed unpleasantly as Lily struggled to her feet. "Why d'you hang out with this little grease rag, anyway? It's not like he's anything to look at. Or do you just like slumming it?"

"Ooh, maybe she likes 'em that way," one of the other girls jeered. "Is he your fellow, Evans?"

"He's a friend, you stupid bint!" Lily snapped, making a grab for the book but missing as well. "Not that you'd know the difference between the two, as you've never had either!"

"Is that what you said in here?" Mindy asked in a falsely sweet voice, opening the pages of the journal and pretending to examine it. "Let's see what it says! Why...there's nothing in here! Guess Evans doesn't know her alphabet then, eh?" She flipped the pages closed again. "Makes this no more than a useless book then."

"Yeah, useless," her other friend said, chuckling stupidly. "You should throw it in the rubbish bin."

Mindy's eyes glittered maliciously. "I've got a better idea. Want to hear a riddle, Janie?" Her friend simply smiled cruelly. "Where does all the rubbish in this town go?"

"River, of course," Janie answered with a wide smile, looking like a toad that had just swallowed a fly.

"Exactly," Mindy laughed, and without so much as a warning, she twisted like a discus thrower and lobbed the book out across the ice of the river. They heard the faint skid of the leather on the snowy ice, and watched it come to a rest far in where the ice darkened and grew thin.

"No! Don't!" Severus broke into a run as though trying to catch it, but Lily grabbed him before he could cross the ice.

"Too late, Snape!" crowed Mindy. "Of course, if you want it back so badly, you could always go out and get it."

"And look at the bright side," Janie echoed. "If you fall in, well, at least you get to have your yearly bath, right?"

The three girls cracked up laughing, and Lily clenched her fists.

"Dry up, the lot of you!" she yelled. "What've we ever done to you?"

"It's more public service, really," Mindy said seriously. "See, we've got to weed out the nutters."

"Too bad you never looked in the mirror," Lily snapped acidly, "then you might have drowned yourself first."

"Looks like your mate is beating us to the punch on that," Janie piped up, nodding at something over Lily's shoulder. Although reluctant to take her attention from the three tormentors, Lily glanced around out of the corner of her eye - and promptly whirled around in shock, the girls forgotten.

"Severus! What do you think you're doing!" she demanded.

Severus, once the attention had moved from him, had inched away, shrugged off his heavy coat and cap, and was stepping gingerly across the ice of the river. He had his arms out as he tried to maintain his balance, his absurd smock-like shirt making him appear like a large bat against the light backdrop of snow and grey sky.

"I'm going to get your gift back," he told her, his voice soft but carried along the flat surface of the ice.

"Don't be daft, that ice can't be more than an inch thick!" Lily cried, the cold feeling creeping up her spine having nothing to do with the temperature.

"It'll hold me," he replied with determination.

"I'll be gutted if it does," Mindy said callously, although the expression on her face was uneasy. She knew as well as anyone that if Severus Snape drowned in the river because of something she had done, there would be trouble in her future.

Lily's hands were clapped to her mouth, and she watched in wide-eyed anticipation as Severus managed to get further and further away, inching forward slowly. She felt fear constricting her, knowing that wizard or not, her friend could still drown if the ice broke. After what seemed like an eternity, he managed to make it to the place where the journal had fallen, and in slow, carefully planned movements, he bent towards the book, his face twisted with effort and his eyes intent. Even the three girls behind Lily were silent, their eyes riveted on the scene.

They watched him coax the book off of the ice and slowly tuck it into his shirt.

"You really want that now that it's been in his clothes?" Mindy needled, although her voice was tinged with a modicum of admiration.

"Go soak your head," Lily snapped.

There was a sudden heart rending crack.

Lily whipped around, and for an instant, time stilled. She was able to take in Severus' look of abject horror and fear, before he disappeared from view, icy rivets of water splashing upward and spilling over the slick ice of the river.

Mindy and her friends shrieked and took off, no doubt desperate to escape the scene.

Lily, for her part, wasn't even aware of acting.

She bolted forward, skidding over the top of the ice sheet, her heart thundering in her chest. As the water stilled, she could see something - the tips of Severus fingers as he scrambled to keep hold of the rim of the broken ice against the strong current beneath - and desperately, without a thought to the possibility of her falling in after him, she slid to the edge of the ice and shoved her hands through, grasping hold of his wrists.

The water was like a thousand knives and within seconds she had lost the feeling in her fingers, aware of them only because of the desperate grip that Severus was maintaining under the water. Tears stung her face as the cold wind attacked her, and she was only vaguely aware of Hermod flying around above her, hooting desperately.

"Grab on, Sev!" she screamed. "Pull yourself up - come on, you can do it!"

She could feel him fighting, but the current was stronger than he was, and his spindly form was no match for the rapids beneath her. Bile and frustration rose up from her stomach as she realized she wasn't strong enough to pull her friend up.

"Come on!" she snarled, tugging.

For a moment, she thought she had managed to tap into a reserve of strength, because she was able to pull him up further, allowing his elbows to hook around the ice as well.

And then, there was another world shattering crack, and Lily was in the water as well.

It didn't register immediately what had happened, but when it did, she felt sick.

She was surrounded by darkness that was both vast and suffocating. Her ears popped from the pressure, and the way her body was thrown about like a ragdoll told her that Severus had lost his hold on the ice. She still had one of his wrists grasped in her own, and she refused to let it go. It was the only other thing she was aware of.

Cold pressed in, a thousand times stronger than when it had only been her arms immersed, assaulting the sensitive parts of her skin and battering at her eyelids, which were forced closed by the barrage of water and ice. Beside her she felt Severus still thrashing, but now he had grabbed hold of her hand as well, and it was not only her keeping hold of him. He was squeezing her hand tightly, and although she was beginning to feel an uncomfortable tightness in her chest as she began to run out of air, she was comforted that even in death her friend would not leave her.

This thought brought back her resolve, and she forced her eyes open, glaring around in the black depths. Light from somewhere to her left helped orient her, and she fought against the current, trying to reach its origin. Her free hand hit the smooth surface of the ice, and she beat against it, trying to find a crack or anything that would allow her to break through it, but the river had carried them away from the thin ice. She was close enough that the light from the upper world illuminated the air bubbles and dust particles trapped within the surface of the glass-like prison which was slowly killing them.

Severus' weight was pulling her back down, and she scratched against the ice, desperately seeking a purchase, but unable to before the current had seized them again.

Lily let out an involuntary curse, and choked as precious air escaped and the filthy tasting water of the river invaded her mouth and nose. For valuable seconds, she retched and choked, torn between her need to breathe in air and to keep the water out, and in this time she was aware of the incessant pull of the water, bringing them further from the hole they had fallen through.

'I've got to find the surface again,' she decided, her thoughts becoming sluggish the longer she was immersed. She couldn't even feel the rest of her body any more, and it was only the slight pull along her arm that told her that Severus was still there. She wasn't sure if he was conscious, though.

She paused, letting the current take them for a moment while she squinted around underwater, looking for the light to lead her to the river surface again. The cold was beginning to seep deeper into her, wrapping its claws into her brain and heart, fighting to take hold of her.

Somewhere, far away, she could hear a sound, something that was not the rushing, thunderous roar of the river. The world was beginning to blur, but instead of getting darker with the hint of oncoming unconsciousness, it was getting brighter, as though she was being wrapped in a cottony fog. Big, blurred shapes swirled around her and she screamed a soundless scream of frustration and fear and sorrow.

She had no more air in her lungs now, and knew that death would come soon. In her haze, she thought she felt the world getting warmer, drier...

'_...__Y__ou have wandered far from home, little one_,' a voice whispered in her ear, echoing as though from far away. '_...__W__hat brings you so deep...?'_

And another voice, harsher and more terrible, roared within her mind.

'_...__Y__ou are the last...no one will stop what I have decreed to be!'_

The silence rang with anticipation, and then the first voice, softer, but somehow more terrible than the angry one spoke, and she felt as though her insides were on fire with every syllable uttered.

"..._C__hild, you must take it...return to where you came from...if he finds you, all will be lost..."_

Out of nowhere, a searing pain radiated out of her, starting at the hollow in her throat and working its way around her neck like a flaming brand that cut into her like a garrotte, slicing into her as it went, and ending with another painful stab where it had started. A new strength seemed to flood through her, and she felt rather than saw the sudden pulse ripple outward and away from her, somehow causing the current to slow. At the same time, she felt a sudden jerk.

Straining her eyes upward, she saw in surprise that she had bumped up against the slick ice, and something of hers had caught on a tiny imperfection in the ice. An incremental movement allowed the light to shine on the bracelet her sister had given her, one of the tiny charms stubbornly embedded in the dent.

A wave of thankfulness to her sister washed over her, expelling some of the cold that trapped her, and Lily felt her resolve return twice as strong.

She was going to get them out of here.

Strangely, she could see better now, and the need for air wasn't as pressing. She still couldn't breathe, but for now her head had cleared enough that she could think straight.

She flopped around clumsily, until she managed to angle her feet properly, resting them against the ice, and glanced back to make sure Severus was still there. His hand was still clenching around hers, as though it was frozen there, and he lolled limply farther below, like an overlarge doll. Tiny air bubbles issued from his mouth and nose, and Lily knew it would only be seconds before he was too far gone to save.

Desperate, she began to knock against the ice wall, kneeing and kicking as hard as she could, the feel of the solid ice reverberating through her.

After what seemed like forever, she finally felt the break, and her foot was through. She continued the work, fighting off the dizziness that was fast returning, and soon had broken the ice large enough that her feet and knees were through. She made scissoring motions with them, fighting the ice to make the hole bigger. Bruises burned her as she worked, and she stopped only when she was sure the opening was big enough.

With a desperate hope, she shook her bracelet free from the wall of ice. As she began to float with the current, she reached up and grabbed at the opening she had made, nearly missing it as her frozen fingers slipped against the smooth surface, but she finally managed to grab a secure part of the ledge.

With supreme effort, she pulled her other hand up as well, Severus' unconscious form moving with it. Gently, she tested the edge again, and then with one last burst of strength, vaulted herself upwards.

She felt a rushing feeling as something moved through her, and had the vague sense of brightness and colors moving past her gaze quickly, when there was a muffled thump and she found herself staring up at the grey sky.

Immediately she choked, water trickling from her mouth and nose, and the gulped desperately at the stagnant air. Severus was still clinging to her hand, but the two of them were no longer in the river, having landed several yards away from the hole on a small embankment of the river. Lily knew without a doubt that her magic had kicked in at the last second to help her, and was more grateful and surer than she ever had been that she was a witch.

"Severus?" she croaked, her voice making no more noise than dead leaves, having to clear her throat several times before she was even able to make a sound. "Severus, are you alright?"

Her friend remained still, his hair plastered back off of his face and his eyes shut tightly.

"Severus!" she snapped, worry and fear taking over again. She scrambled around on her knees and folded her hands over his breastbone, and began to pump his chest up and down as hard as she could.

Minute after minute ticked by and just when she was sure that she had been too late, Severus suddenly twitched; he then curled onto his side and retched up a significant amount of river water.

"Severus!" she yelled, forgetting herself and threw herself forward to hug him tightly. A moment later, she pulled back and began to swat him. "You great ugly nitwit!"

Severus, for his part, looked utterly bewildered, although his pale cheeks had flushed with color when Lily embraced him. "Lily, are you - ?"

"You thick - idiotic - harebrained - moron!" she snarled, punctuating each insult with a punch to his arm. Above her, Hermod had appeared and was hooting in a series of angry trills and whistles in the bird version of Lily's diatribe. "Why did you do that, you little g-git! What made you do something so - absolutely - stupid!"

"You g-got me out," he was saying, wondering. "You actually c-came in after me...I-I...thanks."

"Well of course I came in after you!" Lily snapped, still full of righteous fury. "What else was I s-supposed to do, w-wait for you to magically f-fly yourself out? You prat! I should never speak to you again for wh-what you just did, going in after a b-bloody book...!" She trailed off, because Severus was looking at her sheepishly, and pulling the sodden book out of his drenched shirt. "Are you taking the mickey? You kept hold of the book but you c-couldn't grab better hold of the ledge?"

"It's your birthday gift," Severus said stubbornly. His hair was freezing to his face and she could see the veins beneath his skin. "I had to g-go get it."

"And what s-stopped you from just leaving it there and getting another one?" Lily screamed at him furiously.

"Maybe your family can afford to buy anything that gets lost or broken, but not everyone's can," he replied stiffly, picking himself up off the ground.

Immediately, Lily felt her anger ebb. "Oh, S-sev...I'm sorry, I j-just meant..."

"I know what you meant," he replied testily. "Lesson learned. I will never again try to rescue your p-possessions, because you're above that."

"Come off it," she shot back, "you know as well as I do that it was stupid to go on the ice like th-that. You could have been killed. We almost were."

"And I thank you for that," Severus said quietly, still quivering. "You saved my l-life. That's a wizard's debt."

"A what?" By now, Lily's anger and fright had almost completely dissipated and she was instead suddenly very conscious of how wet and cold it was. A growing wave of weariness began to push against her consciousness.

"It's a life debt," Severus explained, his lips trembling as he spoke. "You s-saved my life, so now I owe you. I've got to save your life one day to be out of your debt."

"Oh," Lily said, not really hearing him. She had begun to shake as the cold breeze penetrated her soaked clothing. Severus appeared to notice this, and his eyes widened.

"Lily!" he exclaimed, pointing at her. "Your neck!"

"What?" His comment seemed odd, but she glanced down her front and was surprised to see flecks of blood had spattered her shirt. She couldn't see anything around her neck, but it seemed to have trickled to her collar bones at some point. "What happened?"

"It's all around," Severus murmured. "Did something get at you under the ice?"

"No," she replied, unsure. There was a pounding in her head and she was conscious that she was sweating, despite the arctic air. "It was s-something else, I think..."

And then her knees buckled and she pitched forward.

"Lily!"

She was vaguely aware of Severus catching hold of her, and then he was dragging her somewhere, half pulling, have carrying her across the snow-covered ground.

"Come on - there m-might be some Pepperup P-potion at home - you'll get sick if we don't get you inside - "

"C-can't," Lily chattered, "W-we can't g-go to your -"

"Why, because it's on the w-wrong side of town?" Severus demanded, as they returned to their glade.

"N-no, your mum...she s-said it wasn't a g-good idea," Lily whispered.

Severus stopped, peering at Lily suspiciously. "You were at my house?"

"I went to f-find you this m-morning," Lily explained miserably. "Sh-she said it would be best if you stayed away for a wh-while. I th-think your d-dad was angry about s-something."

"He's always angry about s-something," Severus rattled, but then shook his head. "Come on, your lips are t-turning blue."

She wanted to point out that his were as well, but couldn't wrench her teeth apart. She wasn't even able to argue when he pulled her back to where he had taken off his coat and hat and hurriedly wrapped her up in the threadbare clothes. Despite the paucity of the garments, she felt grateful for the incremental warmth they provided.

"Come on," he ordered, and they started off.

Severus kept to the back road short-cuts which Lily would never have taken, because they were dark and tended to attract rather dodgy characters, but her friend seemed to know his way around, and nobody bothered them as they hurried toward the new part of town and down the lane to the Evans house.

By the time they reached the front drive, Lily was shaking so badly that she had thrown Severus arm off of her several times, and his breath was coming in wheezing gasps. There were small ice crystals tangled in their hair, and slivers of ice clung to their clothes, which had practically frozen stiff against their bodies. Lily found she couldn't remember what it was like to be warm.

Severus readjusted her on his shoulder and hauled her up the drive, barely stopping when he reached the door and striking the front door with frantic raps.

Lily could hear the voices of her parents inside, and watched as a silhouette behind the muslin curtains grew larger and larger, until there was a click and the door was opened by her mother.

"Lily, I don't know what took you so long to come back for your coat, it's was really - really -_ what on earth happened to you two?"_

Lily tried to open her mouth to explain what had happened, but another wave of dizziness and cold overtook her and she swayed, causing Severus to stagger under her weight.

"Bring her in here!" Mrs. Evans ordered, practically hauling Severus into the entrance and shutting the door loudly behind them. "_Perry! _Stoke the fire! _Petunia!_ Put on the kettle, and fetch some blankets and hot water bottles. _Now!_"

Lily heard a flurry of activity, and felt as Severus' coat, now as wet as the rest of her, was peeled off of her and she was hauled into the living room, where her father was already bent over the fireplace, forcing the flames higher with the bellows and poker. Her mother pulled off everything but her under clothes, exclaiming in horror at the odd bloodstains around the collar of her shirt, and wrapped Lily in the thick feather bed from the sofa, and with only a moment's hesitation, did the same thing for a trembling Severus, who to Lily's surprise, didn't even protest.

"Fire's up," Mr. Evans said, looking pale beneath his beard, and Petunia arrived moments later, frazzled, carrying armloads of blankets and several rubber hot water bottles, which Mrs. Evans grabbed right away and whisked out of the room. Petunia was quick to shove Lily toward the fire place and wrap her in another cover, while Mr. Evans did the same for Severus, forcing the two to sit with their backs to the warmth.

"Now," Mr. Evans breathed, speaking only when color started to return to his daughter's and her friend's cheeks, "what the devil happened?"

Slowly, haltingly, Lily and Severus tried to explain what had happened, but in the chopped-up telling, only the general idea managed to come through. The fear she had felt in the river seemed to be choking her.

"...Mindy Peters...gang...threw...book...was a gift..." Lily managed.

Severus nodded, and added with effort, "...Went to get it...ice broke...fell..."

"...Pulled us out..."

They lapsed into silent shivering, and exchanged glances. Lily wondered if the thankfulness in Severus' eyes were reflected in her own. If he hadn't carried her back home, she might still be there. After getting them out of the frozen river, her body had simply refused to cooperate any longer.

Her mother had returned by now, and slipped hot water bottles under Lily's and Severus's feet; then she put her hand to both of their foreheads, a frown on her face.

"Wizards or not, the two of you are in for a rough time of it," she said crossly. "You both feel feverish and clammy. And _no_, Lily, it's _not_ just because you're wet. I bet you took sick before you decided to go swimming in the middle of January - running off without a coat! Foolish girl!"

"Got her out, did you, son?" Mr. Evans said gruffly, looking at Severus differently for the first time. Perhaps it was the cold distracting them, or the absurdity of the situation, but neither Lily nor Severus corrected her father's assumption. Part of Lily realized this was the first time her parents had ever looked at Severus as anything but a nuisance to their daughter's social life, and she decided it would probably be best if they continued to believe that. "And brought her here to boot - no doubt you were pretty cold yourself, eh? But you got her home."

From her corner, Petunia looked as though she wanted to say something nasty about Severus, but catching her mother's eye she busied herself with picking up the sodden clothes (Lily noticed she touched Severus's with the bare minimum of flesh, taking them between thumb and forefinger as though she was expecting some kind of disease to poison her on contact).

"Petunia, go fill up the bathtub with water. Hot as you can stand," Mrs. Evans commanded, "and put the other hot water bottles in Lily's bed and in the spare room bed."

"Spare room...?" Petunia echoed, and then a look of horror overtook her. "Mother, you can't be serious...?"

"Do as I say, Petunia!"

Lily chanced a glance at Severus, who was carefully looking at his knees and nowhere else. "I should...get home. Mother will be w-worried."

"I don't doubt that," Mrs. Evans replied, sounding as though she very much did, "but you're not leaving this house until I'm satisfied with you - no arguments, boy, I'll not have your death on my account if you up and take pneumonia or diphtheria on me. You'll go home when I say so!"

Severus opened his mouth to argue, noticed Mr. Evans vigorously shaking his head, and sighed dejectedly. Severus glanced at Lily as Mrs. Evans bustled out of the room again.

"Not your best birthday ever, I think?"

Lily chuckled weakly, finding that despite the barrage of warmth from all sides of her, she couldn't shake the cold from her bones. "Actually...was a lot better than last year. Remember Oliver S-Stephens throwing up birthday cake all over my shoes and...how we both got stuck cleaning up the classroom?"

Severus laughed unkindly. "What a pig."

Lily laughed as well, but stopped short, the movement causing sharp pains around her collar bone. With wobbly fingers, she traced along the length of skin where she had felt searing pain while trapped under the ice. The skin was smooth, and didn't feel inflamed or like an open wound. She wanted to examine herself in the mirror over the fireplace, but her mother had returned.

"You're up first," she ordered. "Bath and bed. Petunia, help her!"

She felt her sister pull her to her feet, surprisingly gentle despite how she muttered in annoyance under her breath, and lead her up the landing to the bathroom. Every step seemed to make the world spin around her, and she had to stop several times along the way to steady herself.

"She'll be alright, won't she?" she heard Severus ask as she closed the door, but didn't hear the answer.

Her bath passed in a blur, her eyes drooping with lethargy as Petunia kept an eye on her, and then helped her dress in her flannels, and led her to their room.

"You're really stupid, you know that?" her sister said acidly, tucking Lily in and making sure the hot water bottle was well positioned, but her voice softened a moment later. "If you would just think before you act, you wouldn't get in so much trouble. Maybe you wouldn't be a - a you-know-what, either."

"Maybe," Lily murmured, not caring what her sister was saying, just glad that for the moment all seemed right between them.

"Not in one of my beds, young man!" Mrs. Evans was saying shrilly downstairs. "Bathed you shall be, before you get anywhere near my duvets. Now you get in that tub or I'll shove you in myself. I'm going to telephone your poor mother and let her know what you've been getting up to, and if I come back and you haven't cleaned up, you'll have the tanning of your life!"

She could hear Severus protesting mildly, but obviously the prospect of a hot bath was something hard to argue against when you were chilled to the bone.

"I suppose even sewer rats know not to argue with Mummy," Petunia said, a note of malicious glee peeking through her annoyance that Severus Snape was even in her home.

"I don't think a dragon would argue with Mummy," Lily replied weakly, trying to smile but unable to find the strength.

It was the last thing that she would say for a while, as fever set in and with it, delirium-fuelled dreams that seemed more real than waking moments.

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><p>Special thanks to <strong>hushpuppy22<strong> for my first reviews. I'm grateful for the constructive feedback, so if you're pondering that button down below, do go on and use it please!

TBC


	4. Chapter Four: The Defiance of Temeraire

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

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><p>– CHAPTER FOUR – <em>The Defiance of Temeraire Tillingsworth<em>

Lily was dreaming.

There was a peculiar sense of weightlessness that engulfed her, and while she was distinctly conscious of the heaviness of her body as it slumbered beneath the down quilt of her bed, and people coming in and out of her room, her awareness was far from where she lay. The world whirled around her as her perspective switched rapidly back and forth, allowing her to take in her surroundings with her own eyes as well as see herself the way a stranger might.

She was struck by how small she seemed in the darkness, wandering calmly through the thick underbrush of a forest in her white flannel nightdress.

Despite the constant, dizzying blurring over her view as tended to happen in a dream, she was completely unafraid. Even if she hadn't been dreaming, so many odd things happened to her in waking hours that she felt no fear or surprise.

The shady canopy of the forest was sheltering, not at all overbearing, and the silence, broken only by the sound of living things, was calming. In the distance, she thought she heard a wolf howl. The path was smooth against her bare feet, and although it was very dark, she could make out the shapes of trees on either side. The forest to the left of her seemed fuller and more mature, while to her right, the trees barely seemed half-grown, flowers only in their early-blooming stages. She heard animals on both sides, the soft twitter of the birds and unapologetic crash of forest creatures through leaves and reeds.

From up ahead somewhere, she could hear music, its lilting roll urging her feet onward, making her want to skip and dance toward it, as though a playmate was calling for her to hurry up and come outside. She hurried to do as the music bid her, traipsing along the path that stretched out, straight and without the promise of curves, before her.

She came upon a stone archway that seemed so primeval, fractured and crumbling that Lily was astonished the structure was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding walls or tethers, the archway was hung with a tattered black drape or veil which, despite the absolute tranquillity of the chilly air surrounding it, fluttered very slightly as though it had just been touched. A very faint whispering, murmuring noise came from the other side.

The closer she came toward the archway, the taller it seemed to her, and it continued to sway gently as though someone invisible had just passed through it. Although overwhelmed by curiosity, Lily hesitated in front of it, glancing to the left and right. It blocked the rest of the path, and the trees grew so thickly around either side that the only way to get past it would be to go through it.

There was something both enticing and foreboding about the veil as it continued to flutter and sway, but as there was no other way to go, Lily decided it must be the only way through.

She stepped forward, ready to pass through it, when suddenly the whispers on the other end grew excited, and before her eyes, the veil abruptly parted, its misty substance gathering around both sides of the archway like climbing ivy.

_'You__ may pass_,' a reedy, wistful voice said, and she was so surprised by it that she hurriedly did what it said. As she continued on her way, she thought she heard it add in a long-suffering voice, '_I__ hope you don't mean to make as much of a habit of this as the last one did_...'

She had absolutely no idea what that meant, but continued on into the woods, the momentary wariness at the veiled arch leaving her, forgotten just as quickly with every step away from it.

She must have marched onward for days, but knew it was really only seconds, before the closeness of the woods around her began to dissipate, and the path widened. It eventually opened up, and she could see light ahead. Intent on reaching the end of the path, she stopped short when she reached a junction, and her jaw dropped slightly in amazement.

The path forked into three other directions, but this was not what seemed strange to her - what captured her attention was that each bit of landscape between the paths appeared to be in a different season, seamlessly blending in with its surroundings. Directly to her left, the trees and grass were in the full bloom of summer, while to her right only new buds and fledgling greenery sprouted up, the scent of loamy earth and melting snow mixing with the warm breeze coming from her left. Beside the spring-like patch of ground, willows and oaks towered, their foliage coloured with the bright, dying shades of autumn, and bordering that – most wondrously – it was snowing. Wind lightly lifted the snowflakes, blowing them past the barren trees and pristine white that snow should be and never was in Mill Town. Up above, the sky was filled with both the moon and the sun, but strangely, the brightness didn't hurt her eyes, and she marvelled at the sight of the stars winking in and out of sight around the two heavenly bodies.

For a moment, she thought she could even make out each of the planets in orbit; one of them gleamed a bright, angry red that made her dizzy, and she looked back to the strange intersection, once again taken in by the ethereal beauty of it. It was as she was taking this illogical sight in that she realized that she was not alone.

In the middle of the juncture, a fire was burning cheerfully, casting shadows that stretched in all four directions, and a man sat there playing a fiddle.

Lily took a tentative step closer, trying to discern what sort of a person this was that would be sitting in such a strange location.

The man by the fire was tall, with thinning iron grey hair, and wore an extremely shabby pair of denim pants and an equally tattered coat which had been darned in several places. He had the ill look of someone who had gone without food for a long while, and there were dark circles under his clear blue eyes. Despite the distinct state of insolvency, he sat straight and tall, and something about him made Lily think of a knight from the drawings of Arthurian nobles in her sister's history textbooks. He was alone but for a rather large marmalade-coloured cat that was curled by his feet, staring warily out into the darkness of the forest.

Part of her didn't want to disturb the man, feeling the way she had at an aunt's funeral several years earlier when the time had come to pay last respects to the deceased and even being in the same room with the corpse had felt stifling and imposing. However, another part of her sensed a strange familiarity to this man.

A twig snapped beneath her bare feet.

The cat hissed in her direction, its large golden narrowing as it caught sight of her. At the noise, the man stopped playing, looked up and peered directly at Lily. To her surprise, he could see her in the shadows as well as the cat could, and after a moment, he smiled and encouraged her to step forward.

"You have wandered far from home, little one," he told her in a rich, resonant voice that belied his destitute surroundings. "What brings you so deep into the forest?"

The sense of familiarity grew, like warmth that encompassed her entire being, and she took several steps closer to the fire.

"I'm asleep," she told him earnestly. She felt as though she had known this man her whole life, and that she had simply come upon an old friend, and they had sat down for a visit. "This is all a dream, you know."

"Is it, now?" He didn't appear to be at all staggered by her words, and his tone wasn't mocking so much as bemused. There was something in his eyes, though, that appeared suspiciously like sympathy to Lily. He put away the fiddle. "What makes you say that?"

Lily paused to consider, and the world spun again. She had to close her eyes to ground herself, remembering where she was. She felt, as though from far away, as someone's hand brushed her forehead and cheeks, heard someone crying, and another person wrapping soft flannel blankets closer around her. When she opened her eyes again, the stranger appeared bemused, but she told him confidently, "They're taking care of me. At home, you see? I think I might have gotten sick after I fell into the river."

"What were you doing in the river?"

"I had to save Severus," she explained, and he nodded, and she didn't ask whether he knew who she was talking about or not. Somehow, it didn't seem at all important. "He fell in."

"And did you?"

"Yes," she said proudly. "But...I'm not sure how. I think it was a near thing."

"It probably was," he agreed. He gestured at a large rock on the opposite side of the roaring fire. "Why don't you sit down? We can talk a little while you wait."

"While I wait for what?" she queried, but the fire was so inviting that she was already tip-toeing forward and taking the proffered seat. The man didn't answer her, taking a stick to persuade the flames to grow.

Lily found herself mesmerized by the way they danced, and the longer she stared into it, the more she was sure that she could make out something other than the shapes of curling embers. The fire's surface seemed to gleam as smoothly as the most magnificent mirror. Silhouettes moved around inside; indistinct, but familiar. She thought she saw herself, holding something – a baby, she realized, with thick black hair – and turning away from something – protectively, she thought absently and then she jumped as a green flash of light sparked from within the fire. There were no more images, and for whatever reason, Lily could no longer bring herself to look into the flames. An immense sadness and regret had taken hold of her.

Her gaze fell on the cat, which was staring intently at her from its place beside the man, its orange eyes endless depths of something Lily couldn't name. Something made her sure that the cat knew what she had seen, and knew exactly what it meant. It continued to stare at her, and Lily realized she would not be able to break away until the cat let her. When it finally did, she shivered at the experience.

She focussed on the older man again, and asked nervously, "Is he yours?"

He laughed, apparently finding this very funny, though Lily didn't know why the notion of owning a pet was humorous.

"She belongs to her own self." The man sent an amused look at the cat, which began to clean her paws ostentatiously.

"I read in a book once that orange cats are always boys," Lily said thoughtfully. The cat paused in her toilette to give Lily a sharp glance, as though to say 'that show's what you know', and then went back to her task.

The man laughed again, and stated, "Well, Cat-Sidhe defies laws and nature. Both mortal and immortal. She appears to us how she wants to appear. Be glad she's not in a dramatic mood, or you might see something a little less...tame."

The cat hissed at him, but the sound wasn't dangerous, more a friendly rebuke.

The realization that she was now thinking of the cat as a person made her smile slightly, and she considered her surroundings again. The flames threw strange shadows across the four paths and the trees of every season. Was it her imagination, or did the shapes seem a lot more precise than any she had ever seen a fire cast before? She shook her head, returning her attention to her new companions.

If Lily had been awake, she probably would have thought the three of them made an odd picture – a vagabond and his feline companion sitting serenely across the fire from a young girl in her nightdress. Being quite sure that she was dreaming, she merely took it as an oddity that her mind was playing out for her.

"Where are we?"

"A crossroads," he told her, "a meeting place between many paths."

"It's beautiful. But at the same time..." she paused, and shivered. "At the same time, it feels awfully dodgy."

"It does, doesn't it?" he agreed. "Regardless, child, it's one of the safest places to be."

"Why?"

"It's a very difficult place to find," he said after brief consideration. "A little bit of a backdoor, if you think about it."

She thought about it, and this almost made sense, and so she nodded. "How did you find it?"

"I stumbled on it many years ago," he replied easily, leaning back on the ground, his palms pressed comfortably against the loamy earth. "Every so often, I end up back here, and each time it gets easier to come back." He sighed suddenly, looking morosely up at the sky that seemed too small for both the sun and the moon. "I think this time's for keeps, though."

"Why?" she asked, incredulous.

"There's not much to go back to, I'm afraid," he answered seriously. "It's for the best that I stay here a while anyhow. There's something I intend to find out, and this seems the best place to do it."

"Do what?"

"A complicated question." He seemed to ponder, although it didn't seem very complicated to Lily. "I suppose you could say that I'm hiding from someone while I wait for someone else."

This didn't make any kind of sense to Lily, but she had learned that it was not polite to be constantly questioning and pestering adults. The cat seemed to notice her inability to respond to this, and got up, stretching and yawning, and pranced over to her. Its purring was loud and sent vibrations through the ground and the rock where Lily sat, and after sniffing her, effectively sizing her up, it suddenly jumped into her lap and nudged Lily to pet her. Not knowing what else to do, she acquiesced, feeling that ignoring the cat - especially in this strange place where anything might happen - would be a bad idea.

The stranger took in the sight, his lips pursed, but the expression wasn't angry, only mildly taken aback.

"She doesn't usually like people," he remarked dryly.

While Lily was sure this was true from the lack of welcome the creature had given her before, it seemed hard to believe the way she was purring contentedly in her lap.

"Lots of animals like me." Lily shrugged. "Severus says I've got a natural, um, aura about me."

"You've got something," the stranger agreed, squinting at her. "Who's Severus?"

"He's my best mate. We're going to secondary school together next year."

"I see." His expression briefly flashed pity, which she didn't understand. "So you would be, what, twelve then?"

"I'm eleven," she said proudly.

He sighed heavily. "I see...well. I suppose I should tell you - er, what did you say your name was?"

"My name is Lily Evans."

"Alright then, Lily, I suppose I should tell you before you find out yourself, that..." He cut himself off unexpectedly, and frowned before repeating, "Evans?" When she nodded, he looked incredulous, and a strange note came into his voice. He looked her over again, as though seeing her for the first time. "What's your father's name?"

"Perry," Lily replied.

"Hm." The stranger did not seem to find this helpful, and Lily was struck by the urgent need to be clear with this man.

"But then...my grandmother always calls him 'Eoghan'," she explained. "I think that's his real name, but he got tired of trying to get his boss at the mill to spell it proper and...and...is something wrong?"

The stranger had suddenly turned paler, and his eyes were widening in what Lily could only consider to be anguished disbelief.

"...Your grandmother," he faltered, his voice not above a whisper, "she would be Rhosyn Llywelyn, then?"

"Yes," Lily's eyes widened, surprised. "How did you know?"

The man cursed under his breath, but at her worried gaze, forced a calming smile onto his face, which only served to make her uneasy. "Rhosyn was my niece. And I remember your father. You look exactly like him; I don't know why I didn't make the connection before. I suppose I was distracted..." At her querying look, he clarified, "My name is Dafydd Tillingsworth - your dad always called me Great Uncle Taffy though."

Something clicked at the back of Lily's mind.

"Oh, yes!" she cried, suddenly delighted. "Dad was talking about you the other day; he said you were in the war, and that you were called something else...Teme-Temer– thing."

"Temeraire," he supplied, and shook his head with a fond smile. "Yes, they did call me that." He smiled reminiscently. "The French do have a certain sense of humour - if trouble was going to find anyone, it would be me. And in those days, trouble usually meant a good deal of danger..."

Lily frowned, trying to work something out. "But...if you're him...Daddy said that –" she felt horror take over her face, "– then you're dead!"

"Quite," he affirmed with a nod. "I have been for several weeks now. Or, at least, several weeks of your time. In this particular place, it's more complicated. I have been here an eternity, but at the same time I haven't actually gotten here yet."

"But..." Lily began, confused, "how are you sitting here, talking to me?"

"I told you that this was a crossroads," he explained, and his tone took a sudden turn, a patient, calming tone that her mother often used on her when she was sick or upset. "This particular one is a crossroad life and death. It's what I was trying to tell you a moment ago."

"Life and death," Lily echoed, and felt her heart begin to speed up as the implications grasped hold of her. "You mean, the reason I'm talking to you right now, is because...?"

"Usually when a person comes here, they are crossing the final threshold of the Veil," he explained gently.

The strange archway she had passed through suddenly made sense to her, and Lily sprang to her feet, terrified, looking around for an escape. "That's not possible!"

"There is very little that is not possible," he said mildly. "Possible is in the eye of the beholder, so to speak."

"I can't have died!" Lily cried.

"I don't think you have," he told her. "Although, at first I thought you might be the spirit of an unlucky child who did – but no. You're still too lively to be dead. I believe you're probably just dying."

"D-dying?" Lily cried, almost hysterically. "I-I-I only just turned eleven today! And - and it's not fair! I only just got accepted to Hogwarts, and Severus is going to be so upset if I die, we were looking forward to going together - and oh, Tuney was right! She was right, I never should have – "

"Calm down," Temeraire commanded, still softly but with a firmness that made her clamp her mouth shut. She could feel tears forming in her eyes. "Getting upset and losing control will only weaken whatever tethers you to your life."

Lily immediately forced herself to calm down.

Something appeared to occur to Temeraire, because he cocked his head at her. "Hold on - did you say Hogwarts?" He regarded her keenly. "The magic school?"

"Yes," Lily replied miserably, tears now beginning to inch down her cheeks. She was too upset to even wonder how he knew what she was talking about. "I just got my acceptance this morning and...and I so wanted to go!"

He paused thoughtfully, glancing from her to the cat crouched in Lily's lap; the creature was looking at Lily intently, as though measuring her up. Then, strangely, it nodded.

Temeraire was regarding her now with an intense look, as though he was seeing through her, and his eyes whisked back and forth rapidly, like someone reading a book, and his jaw was working, giving the impression that he was biting back words that were threatening to come out. Several times Lily opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but at each of these moments he held up a hand, the abrupt movement causing her to forget whatever she was about to ask. A crestfallen expression took hold, and then was replaced by a determined look that made his eyes glint like steel.

At long length, Temeraire cleared his throat.

"Well," he finally said, "that is indeed something that changes the circumstances."

"What is?" she ventured in a weak voice.

"There hasn't been a witch or wizard in our line for five hundred years." He mistook her wide-eyed disbelief for disagreement. "Oh, it's true. I wasn't one, you see; although it would have been mighty useful at times, let me tell you. Anyhow, if you are truly a witch, then I believe this really does change everything. I don't think you have anything to be worried about -"

"You don't?" Lily demanded tightly. "That's fine for you to say, you're already dead!"

Temeraire laughed loudly. "Yes, you are definitely Eoghan's daughter. You're as spunky as he was at that age." He shook his head. "What I was going to say was 'you can't die here'. Well, I suppose technically you could, if the archway decides not to let you through again - it had better let you through, it's as bound to the laws as we all are –"

" – What –?"

" – And the powers that govern it should know that dying now is not what's been fated to happen to you."

"Fated," she repeated.

"Yes," he sighed. "I'm sorry to say that it's not a kind one you've been dealt, either." He smiled at her then, kindly and comfortingly. "But then, it's the journey and not the destination, is it not?"

"None of this makes sense," she murmured, swaying on the spot. "How do you know all this?"

"Being dead makes one extremely observant," Temeraire told her earnestly. "It's my sincere hope that you don't discover this for many, many years. Alas...The life of one chosen by the Torc is never an easy one."

"The Torc," Lily repeated. "What's a torc?"

He didn't answer her.

His eyes had flicked past her, staring off into the darkness with an unreadable expression. She noticed that his posture had changed, his muscles tautening as he crouched forward, leaping from the ground until he was standing directly in front of her.

"Stay behind me, and try not to move," he hissed.

"Why?" she asked nervously.

"I think he's found me," Temeraire said quietly, and then quieter, more to himself than to her, "but that would mean he's lost his regard for the boundary line. Which means he's more desperate than I thought."

"What are you going on about?" Lily cried, the bubble of fear returning as fast as Temeraire appeared to be losing his composure. "Who's coming? What rules? Tell me what's going on!"

For a split second, he returned his attention to her, and she was staggered by the expression of deep regret and distress.

"I'm so sorry," he told her. "I never meant for it to pass to you. I thought I was the last, and that with my death, he would be unable to find the Torc. However, I forgot that it was forged by magic much more powerful than that of wizards. It has a mind of its own, you see? It sought you by blood."

"What sought me?"

He answered her, but in another language, one that reminded her of when her father spoke Welsh. Even though she knew she had never spoken it, the words reached her as though spoken in her own tongue. "_The__ Lefay Torc_."

She didn't even have time to ask, because all of a sudden she too felt the sudden constricting pressure that pushed on her from every direction. It was almost like the air was being slowly pressed out of her body, trying to make room for something that didn't belong. Inching a little to the side, she peered out from behind Temeraire, and her attention was immediately drawn to the path leading from between the summery glade and the one covered in snow.

Out of the darkness itself a figure appeared, so swiftly and silently that Lily thought he had been conjured by the air. One moment there was only the darkness, and then a tall figure in a black cloak had taken its place.

The newcomer was beautiful, but in the unnatural way that only something terrible and powerful could be, appearing like a youth in his twenties at the same time as being eternal and unchanging. His eyes were a poisonous yellow green, and his long hair and beard gleamed reddish gold like a lion's mane. He was tall and muscular, and despite the cold and snow, dressed only in trousers made of animal skin and a black robe that opened over his pale chest. Dark blue symbols had been painted - or perhaps etched - into the skin that showed, and he wore a necklace made of the bones and teeth of animals that were still darkened with what Lily suspected was blood. The very air around him appeared to ripple in an effort to escape him.

At the newcomer's appearance, the cat sprang from Lily's lap, its back arched and hackles rising, making a terrible hissing growl that made Lily's bones feel like they were splintering apart from the inside. The man gave the animal no more than a passing look and waved a dismissive hand, intoning, "Peace, cousin. My quarrel is not with you."

"'Peace' was never a word to so easily cross your lips, Anord," Temeraire said darkly.

The man smirked. "You presume to use my name so freely - do you think because you are dead my power no longer reaches you?"

"Whatever power you think you have, here it's no more than an echo," Temeraire replied stiffly. "What do you want? You've already killed me, what do you hope to gain from pursuing me here?"

The one called Anord smiled, and then inexplicably, sniffed the air, breathing deeply and letting out a long drawn-out sigh "I smell its presence, mortal. It called to me across the divide, whispering its taunting words. Killing you did not destroy it. I see that now. It must have latched onto your consciousness."

"If that's what you think, you're deluded," Temeraire snapped, and made an inconspicuous motion behind his back. Lily didn't understand what it meant, but the cat appeared to. It was only a second, and then the creature was winding its way around Lily, leaning on her and trying to push her away.

"You are the last, Temeraire," the strange man said in that horrible, smooth voice. "After I purge you from existence, no one will stop what I have decreed to be."

"You think those who forged the Torc would not have accounted for your zeal?" Temeraire challenged. "That seems almost hubristic, don't you think?"

"Do not speak as though you know the minds of gods," Anord snarled, and the reality around him quivered. "And do not presume that my being less powerful on this plane means that I cannot wrench what I seek from your soul. A fraction of my might is more than enough to overwhelm a mortal soul."

Cat-Sidhe had managed to pull Lily almost all the way to the edge of the path she had first come from, but she found herself fighting, an absolute certainty taking hold that Temeraire was in grave danger, and that this strange man was more than the most powerful wizard. She knew that if she disappeared, Temeraire would be in trouble.

"And yet the whole of the mortal realm seems enough to keep you in place." The gray-haired old man smiled with what seemed uncharacteristic cruelness. "How many centuries have you searched for the Torc?"

"You think you know better, do you?" Anord hissed. "Even now, my powers grow. There are always those who seek more power, who would do anything to get it. They embrace me. Surely even you know something lurks at the edge of the human mind? As we speak, there is one who rises, whose name his fellow humans are too scared to speak. All because he has embraced my might!"

Temeraire laughed bitterly. "I bet he doesn't even know who you are."

Anord looked murderous, but then, something malicious glinted in his eyes.

"You were not this avoidant when I killed you, Temeraire," he said lightly, stepping forward in a movement that was more a glide than a tread. He stopped, inches away from the old man, who was standing as straight as he could but who still cut a weak figure before the sinister, golden-haired Adonis. "You were surprised, I know, but there was still that defiance in you. You seem almost frightened right now."

Behind Cat-Sidhe, who was insistently pushing her back along the path, Lily could see Temeraire square his shoulders.

"I ask myself - why would anyone be nervous here," Anord continued, roughly pushing past Temeraire and striding into the middle of the crossroads. At his presence, the fire exploded out of control, spluttering and throwing itself in every direction until all the trees had caught fire, even the one surrounded by snow, which had begun to melt. "Isn't this where mortals give up their silly hopes and dreams and accept death? And here I thought you had made peace with your end."

"Are you going to end my existence, or hope I waste away as you prattle on?" Temeraire asked through gritted teeth, turning to keep from exposing his back to the stranger.

Anord did not seem to hear him, instead focussing on Cat-Sidhe. Lily practically stopped breathing as the man came right up before them, frowning down at the cat, who yowled and hissed, baring claws and fangs. He inhaled again, trying to catch an elusive scent, and then moved on.

Lily exhaled slowly, amazed. Somehow, the terrifying man could not see her; but by Cat-Sidhe's incessant stare and continued attempts to push her from the path, Lily knew that while it was only Anord who did not know she was there, it would only be a matter of time.

It was almost as though he had read her mind, because the man laughed bitterly and turned to Temeraire again.

"You're not the last one, are you?" he jeered. "There's another and you are trying to protect the wretch."

"Think what you want," Temeraire retorted tonelessly.

The stranger frowned, and his beauty was instantly marred by the menace in the look. "Here I thought I had killed all of your get."

"You did," Temeraire hedged, and Lily had never heard so much hate in a person's voice, "but you didn't account for the Torc having a mind of its own, did you? The magic that forged it was stronger than anything you have ever done. Don't feel bad, I made the same mistake. To err is human -"

"Do not dare to compare your human folly with mine," Anord replied dangerously. A second later, though, his smile was back, but now Lily had the distinct impression of a skull grinning from beneath the handsome face. "What would a Muggle know of magic anyhow?"

"You would know better than I would," Temeraire replied coldly. "You were there in the times when Muggles and Wizards lived side by side. You know there were some of us who have always been sensitive to it, even if we couldn't use it."

"Which is probably why your line has survived as long as it has even while I hunted you," Anord granted. "An oversight I will not make again, I assure you. You are so helpful this evening, Temeraire. It almost makes me regret having killed you. Had you been more useful in life, I might not have. Perhaps if you help me now, I will leave you to your afterlife."

An icy hand grasped hold of Lily's heart, a hundred times more powerful than the certainty that she was going to die beneath the ice of the river had been. In her soul, she knew that if something could follow you after it had killed you, there would be no end to suffering.

Anord and Temeraire stared at one another, the former expectant and the latter defiant. Without warning, the golden-haired man struck, throwing Temeraire clear across the clearing. Blood spouted from a broken mouth, and Lily screamed at the violence of the blow, torn between wanting to hide and wanting to help.

Temeraire struggled to pick himself up, and turned in her direction. Blood pulsed through one of his eyes as well, and he mouthed, 'Go!'

"Your successor is here?" Anord asked, surprised, and then smiled that terrible smile. "Well, do not be rude, old man, introduce us!"

Thunder rumbled from somewhere, and the air began to heat up. Black mist emanated out of his body, almost seeping from his pores, and to her horror, she saw these tendrils roll outward, forming grasping hands and clawed paws.

Temeraire appeared to throw caution to the wind.

"Child, you must take it and run! Return to where you came from," he told her urgently out of the unbroken corner of his mouth. "Cat-Sidhe can only keep you hidden from his gaze so long on this plane. If he finds you, all will be lost."

"But what about you?" Lily whispered, not wanting to speak for fear of attracting the terrible man's attention.

Temeraire seemed not to hear her.

"I can distract him a while longer. Cat-Sidhe will guide you back."

"Back where?"

"Back through the Veil! Now hurry!"

"But I don't understand!"

"Go!" Temeraire roared, and Lily found herself being pushed by the large cat, which suddenly seemed to loom over her, herding her forward. "He can't know who you are!"

"Do not go far, young one!" Anord called after her, although it was plain from how he looked around he had no idea where she was or who she was. "I will find you soon! I always do."

And he laughed a terrible, booming laugh that made the thunder cower and Lily's heart threatened to burst in her chest.

Lily broke into a run, fighting through the sudden sensation that her feet were made of lead that was mired in the mud. Somehow, she found her hand clenched in Cat-Sidhe's fur, and the cat began to fly - and yet she still felt every blow of the creature's paws against the ground, and the trees rushed by, their greenery marred by the flames coming from the crossroads, flames which were trying to catch her -

" - Can't...go any...further - " she gasped, aching pain in her lungs threatening to make her rip open from the inside, but the cat kept running, and before she knew it they were both coming upon the archway. The whispers were now the buzz of angry bees, and the veil looked more like a solid wall than anything, but Cat-Sidhe emitted an earth-trembling roar, and the veil pulled back again.

They were through it and still flying, and Lily saw that her feet were no longer even on the earthen path, and she was actually being carried by the cat, which had mysteriously grown, and darkened, its gleaming fur changing into an inky, sinister blackness that blended into the dark so well that Lily thought for a second she was riding the darkness.

And then the searing pain was back, and time slowed to a ripple. Cat-Sidhe was snarling, and Lily felt a tug somewhere behind her navel –

(-)

Lily gasped and jerked her entire body, her eyes opening wide.

Immediately she closed them again as the brightness of the room assaulted her vision. It was daytime, and she could smell the familiar scents of her mother's cooking somewhere in the background, and the musty warmth of her room in the winter. Her entire body felt stiff, as though she hadn't moved it in days, and her neck felt swollen when she tried to turn her head.

It took several attempts before she managed to turn it even fractionally, and when she finally did, she started so violently in surprise that she let out a moan of pain.

Severus Snape was asleep on a chair across the room from her.

His eyes sprang open the minute he heard her though, and he blinked once, apparently trying to make sure what he was seeing was real, and then let out a yelp of joy.

"Mr. Evans! Mrs. Evans! She's awake! Lily's awake!"

"What?" this from Petunia, whom Lily hadn't seen perched at the end of her bed, but who now loomed over her, looking weary. When she saw Lily, she cheered and looked for a moment as though she might actually hug Severus, before stopping short and looking at him once more with the look of abject loathing. Outside the room, the sound of footsteps, and then her parents were there, and everyone was crowded into the tiny room that she and Petunia shared.

"Lily, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" her father wanted to know, while her mother was pushing her way forward, checking her temperature. "You gave us such a fright!"

"'M'okay," she rasped, her throat and lips as dry as sand-paper. She looked back at Severus. "Sev...?"

"I was fine right away," he assured her. "I just needed to warm up...but you...Lily..." He trailed off, considering her parents, who gave him encouraging nods. "You've been out for days. At one point, we thought..." Here he looked so pained he couldn't continue, but Lily understood what he was trying to say.

"Sev here refused to go home," her father joked lightly. "We tried to make him - I actually drove him down to his place twice. He kept coming back here. The second time with a sleeping bag. I think he actually meant to camp outside of your room, Lily-bean."

For the first time, Lily noticed the tired circle under Severus' eyes - under her entire family's eyes. Her head pounded, and she felt guilt creep up inside her for making them worry.

"Sorry," she gasped, directing this to everyone.

"Maybe next time you'll listen when I tell you to put on a coat," her mother fretted, but she was squeezing Lily's hand in her own. She lifted a cup of water to her daughter's lips, and only spoke again when Lily could speak no more. "Just promise me - no more mid-winter swims until you know how to make a Pupper - Pepper - Pepperepper - "

She looked askance at Severus.

"Pepperup Potion," Severus supplied coolly.

"That," her mother nodded.

Her father grinned wearily at her. "Sev's been telling us about all the kinds of magic you would be learning once you go to Hogwarts. We had to pass the time somehow."

"Listening to lies," Petunia muttered under her breath so that only Lily could hear, but she ignored her, glancing over at her best friend.

Severus looked utterly out of place in her house, and although her parents were treating him a lot better than he was used to, he still looked aloof and far removed from them. She was sure she'd seen him wince when her father called him by the nickname she had given him. It occurred to her then that no one but she had ever shortened his name. It had been a habit, a nickname she had given him, but she had never asked if he minded it.

She made a mental note to ask him about it when her throat stopped feeling like it had been ripped open and had boiling water thrown on it.

"I'm going back to sleep now," she told them wearily. "I'm tired from running." She squeezed her mother's hand. "Don't worry, Mummy. Just going to sleep." She coughed lightly. "Temeraire...he said it's not my time."

And she closed her eyes, but not before catching the worried looks exchanged by her parents nor the painfully grateful gaze of Severus Snape.

By the time she woke of the second time, the entire dream was forgotten.

* * *

><p>Thanks for sticking with it so far ! James makes his first appearance next chapter, so stay tuned!<p>

Kudos to Kim for the beta,

TBC


	5. Chapter Five: Goblins and Gits

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

* * *

><p>- CHAPTER FIVE - <em>Goblins and Gits<em>

Over the next few days, Lily recovered slowly, despite Severus nipping out every so often to sneak herbs and strengthening potions from his house, and the doctor - "The Muggle Quack," as Severus referred to him contemptuously - attributed her weak health to severe exhaustion.

"It's a known fact that redheaded people are weaker in constitution," the man harrumphed impressively as he put away his instruments a week after the fateful tumble into the river, "given to consumption if not worse. I wouldn't be surprised if she's always weak after this."

However contrary to his words, a fortnight after his visit, Lily took a turn for the better and continued to improve steadily, so that by spring holiday in mid-February, she was back to her usual cheerful self.

Severus had become a more accepted guest in the Evans household since dragging Lily home, although Petunia continued to go out of her way to make him feel as unwelcome as she possibly could, loudly talking about skin diseases and glandular problems she had learned about in biology class that might account for Severus regrettable looks. She continued to try to eavesdrop on Lily's and Severus's conversations about Hogwarts, which made Severus all the more eager to escape the Evans house once the weather had warmed and they could go outside. Lily was more than willing to return to the fresh air, however, despite her full recovery, she developed a deep aversion to the cold and was always bundled up in as many layers as possible.

She borrowed Hermod one day to notify Hogwarts that she would be attending, but would require financial help to pay for it - not a week later, a letter arrived informing her that arrangements were being made at a bank called Gringotts with regards to helping her pay for her education. Initially, she was worried that her parents still wouldn't be able to pay for her, but Severus, who was also taking advantage of the school fund, assured her that there was more gold in Gringotts than even existed in the Muggle world.

The rest of the school year passed in a blur, with Lily paying only half as much attention as she should - which resulted in rather abysmal marks in all of her subjects by the end of the term - because she was too preoccupied waiting for school to let out, so that she and Severus could sneak off to the thicket. Mindy Peters and her friends avoided them completely now, ever since Mr. Evans had marched down to Spinner's End to chew them and their parents out about their involvement in the near drowning. Sunny afternoons were spent pouring over whatever book Severus had managed to smuggle out of his house. Most often they were Potions books, as Severus insisted they were the least likely to be noticed missing in his house, and many an afternoon was spent with the two of them quizzing each other on various properties or ingredients. To Lily, it was no different from learning to cook, which her mother had said that she had a talent for, and while she was open to learning new things, she flatly refused to even look through a book Severus brought one day which showed a stylized drawing of a snarling man-beast on the cover.

"Learning Potions and Charms incantations, that's one thing," she told a disappointed Severus, "but I don't want to learn how to curse anyone. You know my temper - what if it slipped out accidentally when I was angry at someone?"

"It'd be a good laugh," Severus told her in his dry humour, and she frowned at him. His expression changed to a slightly guilty one. "I'm joking." When she raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed exasperatedly. "_Fine_, I'll put it back." Upon returning, he said moodily, "It's just as well. We should go through Forgetfulness Potions again - you keep mixing up echinacea and ephedra, though I don't understand why..."

"You ought to be a teacher one day," Lily told him admiringly. "You know so much."

Dull colour flashed across Severus cheeks. "Yeah, sure. Who in their right mind would make me a teacher?"

"Someone who wants their students to actually learn something and not sit in class all day with their tongues lolling out waiting for recess," Lily retorted. "I think Mr. Grover could learn a thing or two from you."

"Before or after he uses me as an example of someone not going anywhere in life?" Severus hedged, but still seemed pleased by the praise.

Lily had been marking off the calendar since her disastrous birthday, counting down the days left of school until summer vacation, when her mother had promised they would make a trip to Diagon Alley. Between Petunia's scoffing and Severus' excited attempts to tell her what he had already seen there, Lily had worked herself into a bit of a frenzy by the time of the last Sunday in July.

Early in the morning, Lily and Severus squeezed into the back of Lily's parents old Ford Thames - Petunia flatly refused to come, insisting that she had been asked by Mrs. Roberts next door to mind the children for the afternoon - and the four of them set off on the drive to London. The drive lasted several awkward hours, while Lily's parents tried to ask questions about what they were about to see, and Severus gave moody, one-syllable answers that made Lily want to kick him. She knew that he didn't relish the idea of having to cart her parents through Diagon Alley with them, but as Lily pointed out, how else were they supposed to get her there? Severus' mother had given him a small amount of money which had been miserly counted out to cover only a lunch in the town and nothing more. It would have been impossible for him to get to Diagon Alley without Lily's parents offering to bring him along.

They arrived in the city around ten o'clock, and while her father looked for parking for the day, Lily and Severus consulted the map from her acceptance letter and a regular Muggle map, comparing the streets and pathways until they managed to make them coincide.

"Yeah, that's the way we went," Severus said, pointing out the most direct route toward Charing Cross Road, and once Mr. Evans met up with them, they set off.

They passed book stands and record stores, corner stores and diners, but nowhere that Lily really expected to find anything to do with magic. Ordinary people walked to and fro, occasionally bumping into the family without even an apology - "Hmph, _townies_," her father groused - and downtown London looked so far removed from anything that Severus had told her about Diagon Alley that she felt a mounting disappointment.

"That's it, there," Severus said, coming to a sudden halt. He pointed down a destitute alley way which opened on another, dodgier looking street. "The Leaky Cauldron."

Her parents didn't see it, and protested when Severus took off down the alley, followed after a brief hesitance by Lily. When they came to the parallel street, Lily thought for a moment that Severus was simply playing a joke on her and her family. She didn't see anything.

And then she blinked, and all of a sudden she noticed it.

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub wedged between a big book shop and record store, looking as though it had been crumbling for decades. Lily's parents arrived beside her, slightly out of breath, and rather annoyed.

"See here, young man, you can't just go running off in the middle of the big city," Mr. Evans lectured. "Your parents trust us to keep you out of trouble while you're here, so you'll mind us."

Severus looked as though he had more doubts about Lily's parents ability to take care of him than about his own parents wanting him to stay out of trouble, but at a meaningful glare from Lily, he swallowed whatever unpleasant thing he was about to say and replied coolly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Evans, but you wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't pointed it out."

"Seen what?" Mrs. Evans wanted to know, looking over Lily's head. Her eyes slid from the book shop to the record store. "Is it behind those stores?"

"Between," Lily piped up, before Severus could make a cutting remark. 'Honestly, he's being a total pillock today.'

She pointed. "See between them?"

It was several minutes of staring, in which Lily was sure her parents were about to burst a blood vessel, before they saw it, and once they did, they exclaimed loudly about how they couldn't believe they had missed it.

"Not exactly inconspicuous next to the newer buildings, is it?" Mr. Evans boomed jovially. "Though, you'd think wizards could afford better upkeep, don't you think?"

"Quite," Mrs. Evans nodded. "And why on earth would they sell books and magic inside a pub? It's not very proper, is it?"

"Let's just go inside," Severus muttered quietly, and the four of them crossed the street.

The interior of the pub was worse than its facade, if possible. It was dark and shabby, and smelled of tobacco and sulphur and something else that Lily couldn't quite identify. A few older men were sitting in a corner, whispering excitedly over what looked like a newspaper - and was it Lily's imagination, or were the pictures moving? - while an old woman who resembled Lily's grandmother except for the shocking purple cloak and the hookah pipe she was smoking sat at the bar, talking to a middle-aged, balding bartender. The noise inside the bar ceased the moment that they walked in.

"Can I help you?" the barman asked, slowly reaching for a glass to wipe and eyeing them suspiciously. Lily noticed that the very air in the place was suddenly extremely tense.

"We need to buy our Hogwarts supplies," Severus said loudly, with a confidence he wasn't usually prone to. Lily wondered if she was the only one to hear the pride in his voice.

Immediately, the tension eased, but did not dissipate, and the bartender smiled, revealing several missing teeth.

"Of course, of course," he said cheerfully. "Come right along - sorry for the rudeness, sirs and misses - can't be too careful these days. Follow me, follow me..."

He hobbled out from behind the bar, motioning for the Evanses and Severus to follow. Severus went after him immediately, but Lily paused slightly, waiting for her parents to follow. The older men in the corner watched them go, and Lily heard a whisper and then an unpleasant laugh from one of them. The barkeeper led them through a narrow corridor that opened into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing by a dustbin and some weeds creeping up the cobbles.

"Always remember, it's three up and two across," the barkeeper explained, and before Mr. and Mrs. Evans could ask what that meant, he had taken out a gnarled, knobbly looking wand and tapped the wall three times.

The brick he had touched wiggled and trembled, and began to fold out on itself, a small hole appearing in the middle. It grew wider and wider, until seconds later an enormous archway had formed, big enough that even a locomotive could have fit through it. But it was what lay beyond the arch which had Lily and her parents gasping with amazement and Severus smirking smugly.

The cobbled street twisted and turned out of sight, making Lily dizzy, but she refused to look away, almost completely sure that it just went on and on with no end. Whatever infinitesimally small amount of doubt she had retained about Hogwarts being real was forever shattered as they walked tentatively into the sunlit alley ("Wasn't it overcast on the other side?" Mrs. Evans whispered nervously to her husband, who seemed too awed to answer her.).

"Don't worry about getting back," the barkeeper told them before the brick wall closed up in front of him. "Just knock when you need to get back and we'll hear you." He grinned at Lily and Severus. "Of course, if you're getting your wands today, you'll be able to get out yourselves, eh?"

The four of them were silent in wonder as they surveyed the day's activities, and even Severus took a moment to appreciate it. The occupants of the Alley did not spare a glance towards the newcomers that had appeared from the wall, and acted as though it were a regular occurrence - which, Lily surmised, it probably was. The sun was bright, and shining cheerfully on stacks and stacks of cauldrons outside _Potage's Cauldron Shop_, and another edifice called _TerrorTours_ had a large painted billboard out front, advertising cruises to the Bermuda Triangle, which was several stores over from _Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions_. There were a decent amount of street peddlers who had set up stalls between the shops along the main thoroughfare, selling a variety of items from flowers and roasted chestnuts, to charms to ward off evil and potions to cure any ailment.

"Dragon scales! Ten Sickles a pound!" a sales wizard called above a crowd of people, waving a bag of his merchandise around.

" - You're dreaming!" a bulky teenage girl shouted at a boy the same age where they stood in front of shop called _Quality Quidditch Supplies_. "The Holyhead Harpies will definitely make it to the finals this year, they've got Gwendolyn Morgan."

"That old hag should have retired after the Harrier's game in '53," her friend shot back dismissively. "I'm surprised she can even hold onto a broom any more - you'll see, the Tutshill Tornados will crush them."

"Why would I pay good Galleons for a cheap imitation Amulet of Horus, when I can charm up a warding spell in a blink?" an aged witch demanded of one of the peddlers, who offered to cut the price in half, thereby gaining the sale.

There were shops selling robes, shops selling various instruments that looked too fragile to do much but look nice, telescopes and quills, windows stacked with barrels of creature parts, or at least that's what Lily thought they were, piles of spell books and potions books that looked as though they were being held up by magic to keep them from littering the floor, parchments and ink wells, revolving globes that were so accurate it must have been like holding the universe in the palm of the hand...

"We should probably, er, see to the monetary side of things," Mr. Evans finally said as they watched a short, stocky young witch in her early twenties pay for something with a gold coin the size of a hubcap; a baby with the same violently red hair that she had reached toward the pocket of her shabby robes, trying to grab a hold of her wand.

"Then we've got to go to Gringotts," Severus said importantly as he steered the Evanses toward a large, white marble building in the middle of the street that dominated the entire alleyway.

"That's the bank, then?" Mr. Evans asked as they reached the white marble steps of the place. He jumped suddenly, startled. "Good lord - what's that?"

'That' proved to be a strange, dark-skinned creature with slanted eyes, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet who was standing beside the burnished bronze entranceway, wearing a scarlet and gold uniform.

"That's a goblin," Severus said offhand, "and according to the books I've read, they don't like to be stared at by humans."

The Evanses moved up the stairs and shuffled through the door that the greeting goblin held open for them, and Lily imagined that its beady black eyes followed her as it bowed them inside, where a pair of uniformed goblins waited by a second pair of doors, these made of silver, that had words engraved on them. Her parents insisted on stopping to read them, and even Lily shivered as the message glinted warningly:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
>Of what awaits the sin of greed,<br>For those who take, but do not earn,  
>Must pay most dearly in their turn,<br>So if you seek beneath our floors  
>A treasure that was never yours,<br>Thief, you have been warned, beware  
>Of finding more than treasure there.<em>

"Mother told me they keep dragons," Severus whispered to Lily as they slipped through the doors and found themselves in a magnificent marble hall. Inside, there were hundreds more goblins sitting on high stools behind a long, teller counter. Some of them sported pointed beards of a similar style to the one outside the building, while others wore pointed hats. All of them were dressed in finely tailored clothing, busying themselves with the day to day affairs - weighing coins and gems in large brass scales, writing in large ledgers, examining coins through eyeglasses. On every side of the hall, countless doorways led off the hallway, with even more goblins leading people in and out.

The Evanses and Severus stood in line for a few minutes before a counter became free, and Severus went straight up to the goblin working there, and although he could barely see over the counter, he said, "My name is Severus Snape, and this is Lily Evans. We were told that there was money set aside for us from Hogwarts."

The goblin gave Severus a bored look.

"You have your letter, sir?"

"Letter?" Severus echoed blankly.

"Your letters from Hogwarts," the goblin said patiently, his tone suggesting that he was talking to a very young, stupid child. "They're the only identification you have right now. No letters, no gold."

Lily and Severus exchanged glances; luckily both of them had thought to bring their acceptance letters with them. They brought them out, and the goblin looked at both of the pieces of parchment closely, and Lily knew in an instant that somehow, the creature could detect forgeries on sight. She shuddered to think what might have happened if their letters _were_ forgeries...

"These seem to be in order," the goblin said, pushing them back over to Lily and Severus, who pocketed them. He continued on in his rather uninterested voice. "The school has set aside five hundred Galleons for each of you to put towards your first year. Each year that you require the school trust to pay your tuition, that amount will be added to your credit. Upon graduation of Hogwarts or in the event that you no longer require the trust to pay for your schooling, Gringotts will begin to charge interest until you have paid off your debt. Understand?" Lily and Severus nodded, while Mr. Evans looked as though he would like to say something but wasn't sure how to broach the subject with the odd looking creature.

The goblin slid two large sheets of parchment over, which had been written on in black embossed calligraphy, and indicated with his quill at a line all the way at the end. "By signing these contracts, you enter into a binding agreement with Gringotts, and acknowledge the laws and penalties of that same body. Only after you sign will we be able to complete the opening of your accounts."

Severus signed his name right away, and after a moment's hesitation where she looked to her parents for their approval, Lily did as well. She had barely finished the 's' of her surname, when the goblin whisked the parchments away and held out two small gold keys to Lily and Severus.

"These are the only keys that will open your vaults," the goblin told them. "It's a rather...painful...process to replace a lost key, so my suggestion is to keep these safe." He handed Severus his first, and then Lily's. This time she was sure that the goblin was looking at her strangely, his eyes raking over her as thoroughly as he had looked at her letter to make sure it was genuine. There was a split instant when she thought he had nodded to her, as though he was sharing a secret with her, and then said, "We look with interest to your future - " a pause Lily knew she was the only one to notice, " - as our esteemed customers."

The goblin now straightened up, and cleared his throat. "I will have someone take you down to both of your vaults -"

"Hold on," Mr. Evans finally spoke up, and gently moved past Lily. "Thanks for all your help, Mister - er -?"

"You may call me _Master_ Bloodgale," the goblin said smoothly, and Severus looked angry, like he wanted to say something to the goblin, but then remembered something and fell silent, adopting a resigned expression. Lily opened her mouth to ask, and then remembered from the many readings of some of Severus' mother's wizarding history books that goblins believed themselves above human beings. This one was clearly amused by her father's blunder.

"Well, Master Bloodgale," her father said before she could stop him, "again, thank you for your help - would it be possible to change some of our money for your 'gallons' or whatever they're called? You can add them to Lily's vault."

"Of course," the goblin smirked, and his eyes fell on Lily again. "You're Muggle-borns, then?"

"I am," Lily said with more confidence than she felt, and added, "but Severus is half -"

"What difference does it make what we are if our money's good?" Severus interrupted, looking livid about something.

"Quite right," Bloodgale said, but the way he kept looking at Lily - like he found something rather funny - made her edgy.

Her parents quickly exchanged fifty pounds, which Bloodgale told them would already have been added to Lily's vault by the time she got there. Then he called for another goblin, called Boneflint, to bring them to their vaults.

"No Muggles," the new goblin said to her parents, holding up a hand. "Bank policy."

Mrs. Evans opened her mouth to argue, probably about how she had no intention of leaving her daughter in the care of _goblins_ of all things, but Bloodgale had appeared beside them and gestured them to follow him. "You may wait in the waiting room. I assure you, it's even more splendid than the hall..."

That was the last she saw of her parents before the door Boneflint held open for them was closed. Lily started at the darkness after the brightness of the white marble, but all the same, followed Severus and the goblin through a narrow stone passage that was lit with flaming torches. It sloped abruptly downwards, and in the torchlight Lily could make out little railway tracks on the floor.

"Is there a train that can fit down here?" Lily asked stupidly, but Severus shrugged.

"I've never been down here," he told her. "Mother didn't bring me with her the last time we were here. I had to sit in the waiting area." He said this as though it was something to be ashamed of, and Lily wondered if her parents had been slighted somehow.

A small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them, and with the goblin's urging, they climbed in. There was a jerk, and they were off.

Lily's eyes and cheeks stung as the cold air blew past them, but she was too amazed at the underground world that surrounded her to close them. They hurtled through a maze of twisting passages and enormous monoliths that had tunnels and tracks built right through them. Stalagmites and stalactites emerged from the floor and ceiling of the caves, making the entire cavern seem like a giant, fang-filled mouth.

At last the car stopped before a small door in the passage, and Boneflint turned to Lily. "Key, miss."

She passed it to him, and he unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared Lily couldn't help but gasp at the neat mounds of gold, silver and bronze that were there. The vault was nowhere close to being filled, but Lily had never seen that much money in one place before.

'And it's all mine,' she thought with amazement, starting toward it, and then pausing. She glanced at Severus, who seemed as transfixed by the wizarding money as she was. "How much of it should I take, do you reckon? Not all of it..."

"I'd say half," he told her. "I mean...you can always come back later if you really need more. But we should be able to get by in the second-hand shops and still have some left over."

Lily nodded, and took the bag which Boneflint offered her, scooping a little more than half of her money into it.

The journey to Severus's compartment took a little longer, but soon he too had his pockets laden with gold and they returned to the blinking brightness of the main hall and Lily's parents.

"Where to first?" Mr. Evans asked once they were outside Gringotts.

"What's first on the list?" Mrs. Evans suggested, and Lily pulled out the second piece of paper in her package of parchment:

'_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

Uniform_: _  
><em>First-year students will require: <em>  
><em>1. Three sets of plain work robes (black) <em>  
><em>2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear<em>  
><em>3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) <em>  
><em>4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) <em>  
><em>Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags at the hem and inner sleeve of each article of clothing. <em>

_Set Books:  
>All students should have a copy of each of the following: <em>  
>The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1<em>) by Miranda Goshawk <em>  
>A History of Magic <em>by Bathilda Bagshot<em>  
>Magical Theory <em>by Adalbert Waffling<em>  
>A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration<em> by Emeric Switch <em>  
>One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi <em>by Phyllida Spore<em>  
>Magical Drafts and Potions<em> by Arsenius Jigger <em>  
>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them<em> by Newt Scamander <em>  
>Defeating the Dark<em> by Geraint Grigglesmere<em>

Other Equipment:  
><em>wand cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set<em>  
><em>glass or crystal phials<em>  
><em>telescope set<em>  
><em>brass scales<em>  
><em>Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad<em>

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS'_

"Uniform it is then," Mrs. Evans decided.

The four of them wandered down the alley, searching through the hubbub for a place that sold robes. They passed one shop, _Twilfitt and Tatting's_, which was displaying robes so ostentatious that even someone unfamiliar with wizarding styles knew that the robes in there would be too expensive. Severus pointed out a second-hand robe shop a little further down and they headed towards it, but Mrs. Evans took one look at the shabby robes on display, and one look at Lily, and suggested in a loud voice they might want to try somewhere else first. Lily and Severus both blushed, Lily because she wished her mother had been a little more subtle, and Severus because he knew he couldn't afford better than the second hand robes.

Mr. Evans broke the tension.

"How about you ladies wander up and see if you can't find anything that suits your fancy? We'll have a look around in here." He winked conspiratorially at Severus. "Men don't need all those extra bobbles and finery, right Sev?"

Severus nodded stiffly, and after saying they would meet up within the hour, Lily and her mother went in one direction, and Severus (looking rather put out) followed her father into the second-hand robe shop.

"I'm sorry that wasn't better put," Mrs. Evans told Lily with a sigh as they continued on for a few more minutes, "but wizard school or not, no daughter of mine is going out in public looking like a slattern. I'd have offered to buy Severus' robes too -"

"He wouldn't take them," Lily supplied quickly. "It's not that he doesn't like you, Mummy - " Lily still had some reservations on what exactly Severus did think of her family, " - he just doesn't like to be reminded about...well, about how things are at his house."

They stopped in front of a third shop for robes, _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, _and Mrs. Evans breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, this at least looks better. Shall we, dear?"

They went inside together.

Madam Malkin turned out to be a squat little witch with taffy hair that was slowly turning grey, and dressed in an elegant lavender robe. "Hogwarts?" she asked with a kind smile. "Or perhaps you're looking for our dress robe collection?"

"Hogwarts," Mrs. Evans confirmed.

"Right this way," Madam Malkin said cheerfully. "We've already had at least twenty in today to get fitted. Only one left at the moment, but he's nearly done. We can start on you right away."

In the back of the shop, a small skinny boy with loads of messy black hair and hazel eyes that peeked out through round glasses was standing on a footstool while an older witch with sleek greying black hair, dainty spectacles and brown eyes, who could only be related to him, considered his long black robes.

"I think we'll have to go up another size, Greta," the woman said with a sigh as Madam Malkin stood Lily on a stool next to the boy. "He might take after his father and not grow for another year or so - or he'll shoot up like a weed. I'd rather not have an owl three months from now, demanding new robes because he's bent over and split them up his backside."

"Mum!" the boy groaned, his eyes flitting to Lily and her mother.

"Well, you know where they are, Eireann," Madam Malkin replied jovially as she slipped a long robe over Lily's head and began to pin it to the right length. "Merlin knows but you're in here enough to make sure your designs are displayed _exactly_ right."

"It's called merchandizing," the woman replied wittily. "I believe it's a Muggle concept. And besides, you keep moving everything around in here - how am I supposed to find anything?"

"Oh, very well," Madam Malkin sighed, and turned to Lily. "I'll be a moment, luv - and don't you touch anything, James Potter, or I'll know it!"

She disappeared into the front of the shop.

Lily's mother made a face. "Maybe I should go ask her to bring a larger size for you too. Your sister also went through a growth spurt just before she turned twelve - you might need an extra set."

And she followed the two witches out. Lily and the boy regarded each other.

"So you're going to Hogwarts too?" he asked, although from the bored way he said it, he already knew the answer and was just trying to fill the silence.

"Yes," Lily said.

"I wish they'd leave off this uniform nonsense," he said, more to himself than her and examined his half-pinned robe with a frown. "There's no point to it, really. The only thing that matters is the wand and the broom. Everything else is negotiable, I think."

"First years aren't allowed brooms," Lily said for lack of anything else to say, and felt immediately annoyed by this.

"Another stupid rule," James said dismissively. "I'm still going to bully Dad into getting me a racing broom. How else am I supposed to practice for Quidditch try-outs? I think it's a crime that first years never get picked to play for the house teams." He looked her over again, and Lily had the distinct feeling that she was being judged. "What's your team?"

"My what?"

"You're Quidditch team," he said slowly, patiently, like she was somehow deficient.

"What's Quidditch?"

"What's Quiddi - are you taking the mickey?"

"No," Lily replied.

His look of disbelief morphed into one of sudden understanding. "Ah...you're Muggle-born." He looked her up and down again, as though really seeing her for the first time. "You are, aren't you? I've never met one of your kind before."

The way he said 'your kind' put her on the defensive.

"My parents are Muggles, if that's what you mean," she told him coldly. "And my friend Severus says there's nothing wrong with that."

"'Course there's not," he shrugged, and went back to considering himself in the mirror. He reached up and ruffled his shaggy black hair, and smirked at himself. "But if I were you, I'd find out about Quidditch before you come to Hogwarts. It's not exactly the time for people like you to be ignorant about such important things, if you know what I'm saying?"

No, Lily didn't know what he was saying, but before she could point this out, Madam Malkin had returned and Mrs. Evans and the boy's mother, both of whom carried robes, were chatting animatedly with one another. The rest of the fitting passed awkwardly, as Lily avoided speaking to the arrogant boy, while their mothers chatted gaily with Madam Malkin as they presided over the alterations. James and his mother left several minutes before Lily and her mother, and she was thankful that neither of them looked back.

"Well she certainly seemed friendly," Mrs. Evans said as they left the shop twenty minutes later. "Rather old to have a son that age though, don't you think?"

Lily shrugged sullenly, still feeling annoyed at the boy's implications.

They met up with Mr. Evans and an uncomfortable looking Severus, who carried some bags from the second-hand robe shop. He fell in with Lily and while they wandered toward the second-hand book store, and she told him what the boy in Madam Malkin's had said.

"He was right to say Quidditch is a big part of the wizarding world," Severus said, "but it's not as important as he made it out to be. He's probably some brainless twit whose only ambition is riding around on a racing broomstick for the sake of showing off. Probably doesn't even have any talent."

Lily felt a little better after that.

They stopped for ice cream at Florean Fortescues - Mr. Evans paid for Severus, despite the latter's protests - and then they continued on to the store which Lily had been waiting to visit since waking up that morning. She and Severus paused outside of _Ollivanders_, mouthing the words _Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._.

"Dear me, there's been magic that long?" Mrs. Evans wondered.

For the first time, Lily felt a little uncomfortable with her parents in tow, and the knowledge that they were very much outsiders in this little world. Severus noticed her discomfort.

"Maybe we should go in alone," he suggested. "I've read that wands can be temperamental, and if the conditions aren't just right we might end up with a dud. The less people in there, the better."

"I suppose," Lily said, agreeing with him, but at the same time not wanting to offend her parents. She looked at them from the corner of her eyes. "I mean...if that's alright with you?"

"Of course," her father said heartily, ignoring the misgivings plain on his wife's face. "I wanted to take a look at that joke shop a ways down. Here, we'll take those bags for you - meet you in half an hour?"

"If it only takes that long," Severus replied, pushing Lily into the store before she could change her mind and invite her parents along.

The place was small, with almost no room to stand in the entranceway. It was as quiet as a library usually was and there were thousands of narrow boxes piled on top of each other up to the ceiling. The entire place was lined with dust and a spider could be seen spinning a web in the window display.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice interrupted the silence, and Lily jumped. A man with pale eyes and greying hair stood beyond the counter, looking at Lily and Severus thoughtfully. "I am Mr. Ollivander. You are here for your wands." He was very direct, and to the point, but his curious blue eyes gave him an air of uncertainty. Lily and Severus barely had time to exchange glances, before he waved them forward. "Come on, right this way...the lady first. Hold out your wand arm."

"My what?"

"Are you right handed or left-handed?"

"Right," Lily replied in bewilderment.

The old man pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings from his robes and began to measure her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. All his movements were making her dizzy and Lily had the urge to ask him if what he was doing was quite necessary.

"The wand chooses the wizard - or witch, as it would be in your case," the man told them as the tape did its work. "Every Ollivander wand is made from the finest cuts of wood species and fitted with a powerful magical substance at its core, the product of which is a wand which will become as another appendage to you. Unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and heartstrings of dragons - these are quality cores - we do not offer temperamental wand cores like some of our competitors."

She was barely listening, not since she had noticed the tape measure stop measuring and pop back into Mr. Ollivander's pockets as the man climbed up a small ladder to remove a box from one of the many shelves.

"No two Ollivander wands are the same, you see? Just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same - just as every wizard has its own personality. It is why you will never have such good results with another's wand, and why one must be careful..." he was in front of Lily again, looking deeply into her eyes as he held out a long thin box, the top removed to reveal the thin wand within, "...especially in these times of great danger."

Lily blinked, wrenching her eyes from the wand as her ears caught the word 'danger'. Before she could ask what he meant, he thrust the wand into her hands. She stared at the wand in confusion, trying to get a good grip on it.

"Well, give it a wave," he said impatiently. "Oak and unicorn hair. Eight-and-a-half inches. Smooth."

Before she could though, he had taken the wand and given her another.

"Ebony and dragon heart string, eleven inches," he stated. She moved her arm to wave the wand, and seconds later it was wrenched from her hands and replaced.

"Birch bark and phoenix tail feather," he told her. "Fourteen inches, pliable."

Yet again it was torn from her hands and replaced. The process repeated until she managed to forcefully grab hold of a wand and give it a wave. There was a snap and a bunch of flowers streamed from the tip of the wand.

"Good, good," the man nodded, looking impressed and rather pleased. "Ten and a quarter inches long; swishy, made of willow and the core is unicorn hair. You will do well in Charms, Miss..."

"Evans," Lily answered.

"Miss Evans," the man nodded. He furrowed his brow at Severus. "And you - you look familiar to me. You're Eileen Prince's boy, aren't you?"

Severus looked surprised, as though he wasn't sure if he should be pleased at the recognition or embarrassed. "Yes, sir."

"Hawthorne and dragon heartstring, nine inches, rigid," Mr. Ollivander rattled off, "not especially good for offensive spells, but rather good for defence, as I recall...yes, yes...let's try this one then - " he slid across the shelves on the rolling ladder and grabbed hold of a box. "Holly and dragon heartstring, twelve inches - that dragon was the same as your mother's you know - no? Not the right fit? Well, let's try another..."

The process continued for some time until Severus grabbed hold of one wand and a shower of silver rain by burst outward.

"Birch, thirteen inches exactly," Mr. Ollivander pronounced with a nod. "Unyielding. The core is phoenix feather - those with phoenix feathers tend to be talented when it comes to the Dark Arts," Ollivander said to Severus, a warning in his eyes, which only softened slightly when he added, "both in defending themselves and others from it, as well as performing it. Take care of it, young man."

Severus swallowed heavily, and only nodded.

They left the shop together after paying eleven Sickles and eight Knuts each, and once again met up with Lily's parents, who suggested they take a break for lunch. They returned to the Leaky Cauldron, where they examined their purchases while the barkeeper served them homemade stew and biscuits, and then returned to the alley for the rest of their shopping. They bought their supplies in the various second-hand shops, although _Potages Cauldron Shop _was so reasonably priced that they both walked out with quality cauldrons. Soon Lily was toting around not only her brand new set of robes and her wand, but a collapsible brass telescope, well-balanced scales to weigh ingredients in and a large package of quills and ink. They visited the Apothecary for a supply of basic potion ingredients, although when Mr. and Mrs. Evans weren't looking, Severus added some dubious looking items to his pile and sent Lily a conspiratorial wink as he paid for them. She figured they were probably for one of the potions they had been studying together, and if she hadn't been just as guilty of wanting to get started on potion-making, she would have scolded him for not sticking to his school list.

They had less luck at Obscurus Books, which only stocked some of their schoolbooks.

"These last three you'll have to get at Flourish and Blotts, though," the wizard proprietor told them regretfully, passing back their school lists and the items he had been able to find. Severus had only bought one book, uncomfortably explaining that his mother had all of the rest from her school days. "They're new titles, and the only copies we had in, we sold two weeks ago."

And so they trekked back up the alley to the largest bookshop in Diagon Alley, which seemed to be in the middle of a vortex of people blustering in and out. There were so many people clamouring for certain books, that Lily and Severus hung back for a moment with Lily's parents, just watching all the activity with appreciation.

A harried wizard noticed them, and hurried over. "Hogwarts then?"

"Yes," Lily said, showing her list. "Just these last three, though."

"For both of us," Severus spoke up, and the wizard nodded distractedly.

"Just wait somewhere off to the side while I navigate this," he gestured to the frenzied activity and went off, muttering to himself. "Serves me right to set the Celestina Warbeck biography out on a weekend..."

Severus dodged a pale, pointed faced teenager marching past him with a pile of brand new books and made a face at Lily. "I think we might be safer if we stick to the walls."

"Yeah," Lily nodded, turning to tell her parents, but noticed that they were amusedly examining an illustrated copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. She grinned at Severus. "I guess I'll leave them to it, then. I think they might be more amazed by what's in here than we are."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Severus replied, eyeing _Curses and Counter-Curses_ by Vindictus Viridian. "I'm getting this."

"No you're not," Lily told him, hands on her hips. "You haven't got a wand two hours and you're already trying to get it taken away from you?"

"It's not bad stuff," Severus argued. "Look - see, it says _counter-_curses. That's to defend yourself in case someone decides to take a sudden dislike to you. It'd be useful."

"You haven't got enough money for it," Lily retorted smartly. "You've got schoolbooks to buy, and those are more important."

"I guess," Severus allowed, tearing his eyes away from the book, "but I could always see if the other place had it."

"Severus!"

"Alright, _alright_..."

"Let's go stand over there," Lily suggested, wanting to change the subject. "I suppose if we stay by the stairs we'll be easy to find?"

"Yeah, okay."

They pushed their way over to the stairs, but upon reaching them, Lily almost walked straight into Severus when he stopped without warning.

"Sev, what are you - ?"

But then she too saw what Severus was looking at, and found herself momentarily speechless.

A girl their age stood at the foot of the staircase, her shoulders hunched and her gaze firmly focused on the floor in front of her as though she wanted nothing more than to shrink into the shelves and books surrounding her, something Lily was sure would be impossible, because the girl in question was one of the prettiest girls Lily had ever seen. She looked like the child models in Lily's mother's clothing catalogues - she was tall, with waist-length silvery blond hair, full pink lips and dainty hands which were currently clutching her expensive looking robes like they were a lifeline.

Blinking with effort, Lily was slowly able to see past the girl's looks and notice that she seemed absolutely miserable.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked tentatively, pushing past Severus who still seemed slightly shell-shocked. The girl looked up in surprise at being addressed. Lily was startled again, this time by the clear quality of the girl's grey eyes. "You don't look very well."

"I'm fine," the girl replied, in a voice that sounded like music despite the clipped, precise enunciation. "I just...I don't like crowds."

"Then go outside," Severus told her, recovered now and looking at the girl as though he was angry at her for something.

"I can't," she said quietly, looking back down at her feet. "My brother told me to wait while he got my books. He'll be angry if he has to go chasing after me."

"Chasing? You'll only be outside," Lily pointed out, but when the girl vigorously shook her head, Lily looked around and noticed that she and Severus weren't the only ones who had been held spellbound by the girl. There was an almost complete circle of passersby who stared at her, whispering and pointing. While most of the looks were awed, some of them seemed almost cruel. Lily frowned. "Does your brother know how you feel about crowds?"

The girl shrugged, looking miserable, and despite the indefinable air of having been cared for and pampered, Lily felt sure that this girl was just as lonely and miserable as Severus had been before she had befriended him.

"I'm Lily," she said, coming over to stand with the girl. "This is Severus. Are you starting Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," the girl said shyly.

Lily sent Severus a meaningfully look, and he stiffly wandered over to join them.

"Have you got the rest of your things yet? Sev and I only just got our wands - I'm not sure if I like Mr. Ollivander, though. He's a bit...off?"

The girl didn't get a chance to reply, because the pointed faced teenager that had nearly knocked over Severus suddenly appeared, bags in hand, looking down his nose at the three of them.

"Really, Persephone, I leave you alone five minutes and you to attract the two most unfortunate looking brats here," he drawled. "I'd say I was surprised at the company you keep, but I'd be lying. It's expected by now, I think."

The girl turned pink and muttered something under her breath, and shuffled over to follow him. Severus glared at the teenager, which was more than Lily could manage, because she was too angry to speak. The teenager looked like he wanted to say something else, but then decided not to, instead simply allowing his eyes to rove judgmentally over Severus' greasy hair and Lily's second hand books, before shoving Persephone out of the store. "I should tell Father about your low tastes - of course, when you consider _your_ mother, it explains so much..."

"What a git!" Lily managed at last, several minutes after the two left. "Did you see the way he was bullying her? And what was his problem?"

"No idea," Severus replied angrily, although a glint in his eyes made Lily think that he knew exactly what the arrogant blond boy was talking about. She would have asked him, but the wizard who had been helping them appeared, carrying a pile of books which he passed to them.

"Best get in line," he told them kindly. "The afternoon rush is going to start soon."

"You mean this isn't the rush?" Severus deadpanned as they got into line, joined by Mr. and Mrs. Evans soon afterwards.

The sun was beginning to move downward in the sky as the Evanses and Severus made their way down Diagon Alley and back through the magical wall, through the Leaky Cauldron and into the streets of Muggle London. Lily smiled a contented smile as she looked back one last time at the pub that only she and Severus seemed to be able to see from the distance.

"We're really going, aren't we?" Lily whispered to Severus as they climbed back into the car.

"Of course," Severus said, examining the bag with his gold in it. He had spent the least amount that he could, and thus his bag was still significantly weightier than hers. "I think I'll take out a subscription to the _Daily Prophet_ until school starts. They get owls to deliver the news, and it's not that expensive. Good way to learn about the wizarding world, don't you think?"

"I'm sure Petunia will love that," Lily deadpanned, "An owl showing up to our house?" She put on a shrill voice, meant to imitate her sister, "'Oh, what will the _neighbours_ think?'"

Severus laughed out loud, a sound that was so rare that Lily's father glanced at them in his rear-view mirror, startled.

Immediately, Lily felt badly about what she had said. If her mother was right about Petunia being jealous, perhaps it would be best to downplay the whole situation when she was around?

She began to play with the charm bracelet her sister had given her, fingering the two flowers on it thoughtfully.

How was she supposed to be excited about Hogwarts, when her sister was being so obtuse about the whole situation?

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><p>If anyone wants to know, I've used various currency converters to get the approximate value of money in the 1970s as well as the Wizarding World Currency Converter at provided by the HP Lexicon, so the money at least should me more or less accurate. Regarding Snape's wand - I wasn't able to find anything on it in my research, so I made it up using Rowling's method of calculating Harry, Ron and Hermione's using birth trees from the Celtic wheel of the year (Birch for Snape), the number 13 which is a sacred number in Wicca (the lunar esbats) and unyielding (For Snape's personality)<p>

Thanks for the beta, Kim!

As always, I'd really appreciate the feedback,

TBC


	6. Chapter Six: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

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><p><em>AN: I make use of some passages from Deathly Hallows in this chapter. They belong to J.K. Rowling and not to me, although I've tried to paraphrase them properly. I use them only to make the chapter more authentic and canon. Please don't sue me, I'm a poor student with no money to give you.<em>

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><p>– CHAPTER SIX – Aboard the Hogwarts Express<p>

Lily's fears about her sister proved correct.

The minute she came home with all of her new school things, Petunia took one look at her, and disappeared into the room they had shared for ten years. Within minutes, she was carrying piles of her clothes and dolls into the spare room down the hall, and told her stunned family that she was old enough to have her own room now – and sharing with a witch was the last thing she intended to do.

This resulted in one of the largest rows Lily could ever remember having taken place at her home, with Petunia and their father yelling back and forth, but in the end, Petunia got her way and Lily found herself occupying their room alone. It was the beginning of what would be the worst summer of Lily's life, for although Petunia was thankfully still speaking to her, there was a coldness that had never existed between them.

It was the first summer that she spent entirely with Severus, and although he was a good and understanding pal, she missed the companionship of her sister; the few attempts she made to include Petunia were rebuffed airily, as her sister insisted she had _older_ friends to hang around with, and so Lily contented herself with brewing up potions with Severus in her room. They were careful only to work on inconspicuous brews, such as Boil-Cure Potion and Hiccoughing Solution, because Mrs. Evans was given to wandering by to hover curiously whenever she was home. Severus would get rather cross when this happened, but as Lily reminded him, he refused to have her at his house.

One day a letter came for Petunia, which she whisked away secretively, and no one saw her for the rest of the day. Lily wouldn't have thought of it – Petunia was rather given to sulking of late – except her dislike of Severus and resentment of Lily appeared to double over the rest of the summer, and she ignored any questions about it from her family.

"What's stopping you from going to find out yourself?" Severus asked one day in August as he and Lily debated which of the four houses would be the best to be sorted into. Lily thought she would make a good Ravenclaw, while Severus was busily trying to convince her why Slytherin would be a better match for her. "She's out with one of her giggly friends, it's not like she could stop you."

"It's her privacy, Sev," Lily told him shortly. "I'm not going to invade that."

"Whatever it is, she's taking it out on you," he told her pointedly. "So that makes it your business, in a way. And you're the one who's getting hurt over it, so there."

"Severus..." she trailed off, caught between wanting to do right by her sister and wanting to know what Petunia was so upset over.

"I've got an idea," he told her, getting up and stretching. Even under his too-large clothing, she could see the points of his bones and ribs. "I'll go look, and tell you what it is. That way you're not prying."

And before she could stop him, Severus had slipped out the open door of her room and was gone.

"Sev!" Lily hissed, and after a half-second's deliberation, hurried after him. "Severus Snape, don't you dare!"

But her friend had already opened the door to Petunia's room and disappeared within.

The former spare room was in pristine condition, a shrine of neatness that reminded Lily of one of the only reasons she was glad to have her own room now. She's wasn't the neatest person in the world, but neither was she as passionate about order and cleanliness as her sister was. It was because of this neatness that Severus so easily found what had upset Petunia.

Stuffed roughly between two books on the shelf was a piece of what appeared to be parchment, and before Lily could tell him not to, he had pulled it out. Lily could make out loopy green writing as he began to read out loud:

"_Dear Miss Evans,_

_I received your recent letter concerning the possibility of you coming to our school, and I must admit that I was so touched by the sentiment I believe you deserve a personal answer._

_While it pleases me to see a Muggle who is so interested in Hogwarts, I sincerely regret that it is currently impossible for any non-magical person to attend. Hogwarts has been and – as long as our board of governors is made up of stodgy old purebloods with an aversion to change – will always be a place of magical education for witches and wizards. _

_Your sister is lucky to have someone has dedicated as you are, and I hope that you will always remember that family is one of the most important blessings a person can have._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore."_

Severus looked up from the letter, gaping, and couldn't hide the slight note of admiration in his voice as he asked, "Your sister wrote to the Headmaster of Hogwarts?"

"She must have," Lily murmured, reaching for the letter to read it herself. "No wonder she's been so upset lately."

"But how did she address it?" Severus puzzled. "It's not like Hogwarts has a postal code. I read in _Hogwarts: A History_ that it's hidden. You've got be an owl or an extremely powerful wizard to get through all of the enchantments on it."

"Oh, Tuney," Lily sighed unhappily.

"Maybe there are wizards who watch the postal service," Severus continued. "That's got to be how they do it. Or maybe –"

The sound of the front door opening and closing made Lily jump.

"Hurry – get out before Mummy sees you," she hissed, shoving the letter back into its hiding place with one hand and pushing Severus out with the other. "And if you _ever_ breathe a word of this to anyone – if you ever even let on to Petunia that you know about this, I'll find out how to do that Entrail-Expelling Curse you were telling me about and use it on you!"

While Severus had the decency to look worried, it didn't stop the odd looks he sent Petunia over the next few weeks.

Given what she and Severus now knew about Petunia, Lily was very surprised when her mother managed to persuade her sister to come see them off on September first. She heard her mother discussing it with her father the night before that the only reason Petunia had consented to come was if they didn't offer a lift to Severus. It was a bitter pill, but Lily swallowed it, hoping that she might be able to talk her sister around on the long ride to King's Cross Station.

Lily couldn't sleep the night before, jumping up every half-hour to make making last minute checks at her belongings and that everything was safely packed away. When her mother came to get her at five o'clock the next morning, she had already readied the large traveling trunk for her father to take out into the car and dressed in casual Muggle clothing – she had decided that her Hogwarts uniform was not only too conspicuous, but also more likely to upset Petunia.

Not five minutes into the drive, she almost wished her sister had stayed home. Petunia sulked the entire drive, staring fixedly out the window and ignoring everyone, and the definite tense feeling in the air made the drive seem twice as long as it had been when she and Severus visited Diagon Alley.

They arrived at King's Cross at quarter past ten, parked in the lot, and Mr. Evans lifted Lily's trunk out of the car with a grunt of minimal effort. As her mother went off to find her a trolley, Lily looked up at the station, trying to find the number of the platform she needed. Her ticket had said 'platform nine and three-quarters', but that didn't exactly seem right to her. Once again she began having second thoughts that went as far as to think Petunia had cooked up the entire thing.

But no, Lily shook her head, eying her sister covertly. In the last few weeks, she had realized what she had never noticed before – her sister had absolutely no sense of humour or imagination, both of which would have been needed to come up with such an elaborate hoax.

"Well, luv, where are we supposed to go?" her mother asked, looking nervously around as she wheeled the trolley over and Mr. Evans began to load his daughters belongings onto it. Lily didn't and couldn't answer. She looked up at the big plastic signs that had the numbers 'nine' and 'ten' written on them, but couldn't see 'nine and three quarters' anywhere.

"Lily!"

The crowd parted a little, and Lily could now make out Severus, who was standing at the brick divide between platforms nine and ten. He ran over, nearly tripping over his too long trousers, and came to a stop in front of the Evanses. His eyes were alight with excitement, and he spoke to her without even acknowledging her family. "You're nearly late – the train leaves at eleven!"

"There was traffic," Lily said, glancing at her family and back. "How do we get on the train?"

"You've got to go through the wall there, between the platforms," he explained. "Listen, I've got to get back – I had to fight with Mother to stay out here until you showed up. I think she's more anxious for me to get on the train than I am."

"Not possible," Lily said lightly, but he didn't hear her, because he was already loping back to the barrier and – to the surprised gasps of her parents and Petunia – ran straight into the wall, disappearing from view. The people walking by didn't even seem to notice.

Her father swore, and Petunia's eyes threatened to bug out of her head, but Lily felt new confidence fill her. The barrier was the door to…wherever she was trying to go to. Eyeing her family, she cleared her throat. "Should we...go one at a time, or together?"

"You and your father go," Mrs. Evans suggested. "Petunia and I will come after."

Petunia looked like this was the last thing she wanted to do, but didn't argue.

Steering her trolley towards the barrier, Lily and her father began to walk straight towards it, and she tried to seem as though she had only spotted some relative or friend in the distance. Exchanging furtive glances, they began to pick up speed, pointing the trolley in front of them – they were picking up speed now – she expected the brick wall to be a painful, jarring experience –

But there was no impact as they slipped through the barrier.

Lily and her father kept running, but slowed at what appeared in front of them.

A scarlet steam engine was already pulled in next to a platform that was packed with people; a sign overhead said that it was the Hogwarts Express. Looking around, she saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been on the way in, now emblazoned with the words 'Platform Nine and Three Quarters'. People were loading trunks onto the train, while cats of every colour mewled in their owners' arms; some students had already changed into their long, black school robes. Smoke from the engine filled the open air, the hissing noise joining the hooting of owls and chatter of students to their families. Within the compartments she could see that some of them were already packed inside, hanging out the windows to talk to their parents and savour their last minutes with them for the year.

She saw Severus a ways away with his mother, who was looking around sourly. He seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else, but then Mrs. Snape began to speak to him and he visible forced himself to listen.

Behind her, the sudden disbelieving gasps told her that Petunia and her mother had come through the barrier as well.

"Amazing!" Mrs. Evans breathed, looking around. "They really do have a certain style, wizards do."

"If they were so great they wouldn't be keeping themselves secret," Petunia sniffed, eyeing a boy with a toad with the utmost revulsion. "Ugh, that's _vile_!"

"Now, Lily, you be careful," Mr. Evans said. "We'll want you to keep in touch, now. See if you can't find some time to telephone home every once in awhile, yeah?"

"I don't think they've got telephones at Hogwarts," Lily said with a slight smile, "but I'll write you all every day."

Her parents had to be mollified by that, and continued to look around, but Petunia appeared to find Lily's words meaningless.

"Write us about what?" she grumbled sourly, "About how you're turning people into bats and making potions with fish tongues and beetle eyes? And forgetting about what it's like to be a normal person? As if we'd want to know."

Lily tried to hide how much her sister's words hurt her. "Of course not! Just because I'm going away doesn't mean stop caring about my family. You especially. You're my sister – my best friend! I'm going to miss you the most."

"If you were going to miss me that much, you wouldn't be going," Petunia snapped, and there was a quaver in her voice that told Lily her sister was holding back tears. "You'd have stayed home with me, and tried to be normal, and you never would have even thought about going to a school where I wasn't allowed to go!"

Lily pulled Petunia a few steps away from their parents, who were drinking in the scene on the train platform with an air of complete enjoyment.

"Listen to me – I'm sorry, Tuney, I'm sorry!" she cried as quietly as she could while still impressing her seriousness on her sister, catching hold of Petunia's hand to keep her from bolting; immediately Petunia tried to pull away. "Maybe once I'm there – no, listen, Tuney! Maybe once I'm there, I'll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind!"

"I don't – want – to – go!" Petunia hissed, finally succeeding in hauling her hand away from Lily. "You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a – a –" she trailed off briefly, glaring around the scene, before settling on the word that best seemed to fit, "– you think I want to be a – a freak?"

Lily recoiled, feeling as if she had been slapped, and felt her eyes begin to water.

"I'm not a freak," she told Petunia quietly. "That's a horrible thing to say."

But Petunia had finally lit upon a way to wound Lily, because her next words oozed with malicious relish.

"That's where you're going," she said triumphantly, "a special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy...weirdoes, that's what you two are. It's good you're being separated from normal people. It's for our safety."

A bubble of anger began to form in Lily's stomach, and with a quick glance to make sure neither her parents nor anyone else could hear, she hissed at Petunia, "You didn't think it was such a freak school when you wrote to the Headmaster and begged him to take you!"

"Beg? I didn't beg!"

"I saw his reply," Lily returned. "It was very kind!"

She immediately regretted her words, for something akin to shame and betrayal glinted in Petunia's eyes.

"You shouldn't have read – that was my private –" Petunia spluttered, stricken, "– how could you –?"

Lily felt ashamed, and was unable to stop herself from the quick peek in the direction where Severus stood with his mother. Petunia followed this, and then gasped angrily.

"That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!"

"No – not sneaking –" Lily protested, although from her sister's wild demeanour, she felt sure that she was fighting a losing argument. "Severus saw the envelope, and he couldn't believe a Muggle could have contacted Hogwarts, that's all!" She began to talk very quickly, trying to make her sister understand. "He says there must be wizards working in the postal service who take care of –"

"Apparently wizards poke their noses in everywhere!" Petunia snapped, looking like the notion itself was terrifying. She had gone very pale, and narrowed her eyes at Lily.

"Freak!" she spat, and turned on her heel to rejoin their parents. Lily wanted to follow, but hung back when she heard her sister loudly demand that she wanted to wait in the car, and her parents had no choice but to give her the keys.

Lily watched her sister's retreating back, no longer able to hold back the tears that slipped over her cheeks.

"There, there, sweetheart," Mrs. Evans soothed, enveloping Lily in a hug. "It will all work out. Maybe this is for the best...you two have never really been separated before – perhaps some time apart will make Petunia realize just how much she misses you."

"How can she m-miss me when she h-hates me!" Lily cried, unable to hold back the sobs that suddenly wracked her body. "She's hated me s-since I got muh-muh-my letter!"

"I told you, popkin, she's just jealous," Mrs. Evans soothed, pulling away from Lily and kneeling down in front of her. "I'll have a talk with her, alright? You'll see. Come Christmas, she'll be chuffed to have you home."

Lily nodded, but didn't feel any better.

Her father embraced her now, and gruffly ruffled her hair. "Whatever Petunia says – we're proud of you. And we'll miss you –" he raised his finger mock seriously, " – but if you step a toe out of line, we'll march right up there and you'll have to explain to your Headmaster what your Mugger parents are doing at Hogwarts."

Lily forced herself to laugh, and allowed her father to lift her trunk onto the train. After a few more goodbye and tears (mostly from her mother, although Lily herself contributed), Lily was aboard the Hogwarts Express and finally about to start her journey to Hogwarts.

She dragged her trunk through several cars, looking for a place, and finally found an empty compartment near the end. She didn't have the energy or the will to lift her trunk into the luggage rank, and simply let it lean against the compartment door, before sitting by the window and pressing her face against it. The tears came again, and she let them.

'Why did I read that stupid letter?' she thought with furious sadness. 'Why did I let Severus get into her room? If I had been just a little faster, I'd have stopped him and...and...and she'd still be mad at me.'

She didn't notice when the train began to pull out of the station, nor did she even look up when a group of rowdy boys piled into compartment. She was vaguely aware of one of them asking if she was alright, but she was too upset to answer him, and he eventually left off. Eventually the tears stopped, but her face felt swollen and dry where they had left tracks down her cheeks.

More time passed, and she heard the compartment door slide open, the sound of someone manoeuvring past the other boys, and then that someone sat down opposite her. She glanced up, recognized Severus, who had already changed into his school robes, and looked back out the window.

"I don't want to talk to you," she said in a constricted voice.

"Why not?"

"Tuney h-hates me," Lily whispered. "Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore."

"So what?"

Anger at Severus' complete callousness took over, and she glared at him, for the first time in two years feeling a deep dislike for him. "So she's my sister!"

"She's only a –" he trailed off, while Lily furiously wiped at her eyes, hoping he didn't notice.

Severus paused for a second, and then seemed to try a different track.

"But we're going!" he told her, the exhilaration in his voice such a change from his usual sullen tones that she had to look at him again. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

She couldn't help the half-smile that formed on her face at his words, and finished eradicating the last bit of tears from her face.

Severus appeared relieved that she wasn't going to continue crying, because he relaxed and grinned crookedly. "You'd better be in Slytherin."

"Slytherin?"

A familiar voice interrupted them, and Lily looked up in time to see its owner look around at the word. She recognized the black haired boy from Madam Malkin's. James Potter was looking at Severus like he had just said a rude word.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" he continued loudly to the other boys. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

A darkly handsome boy with thick black hair and striking grey eyes lounged on the seat opposite James, but instead of laughing along, he frowned. "My whole family have been in Slytherin."

"Blimey," said Potter, looking surprised, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

The boy grinned. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

The Potter boy posed, pantomiming an invisible sword. ""_Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart""_ Like my dad." To her surprise, Severus made a small, disparaging noise. Potter turned on him, a mean look in his eyes. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," Severus said, though from the slight sneer on his face, Lily was sure he thought otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy –"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" the good-looking boy interrupted, and Potter roared with laughter.

As anger tinged Severus' face, Lily sat up straight and glared at James and the other boy in dislike. She wanted to say something to them, but knew that given her currently unstable mood, it would inevitably lead to a temper tantrum on her part. Instead, she held her head high and announced haughtily, "Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."

"_Oooooo_..."

The two boys started to imitate her, and as they passed Potter tried to trip Severus. She and Severus made it out into the hallway and she grabbed her trunk, while the compartment door slammed shut, a loud voice yelling, "See ya, Snivellus!"

"Ignore them," she told Severus, who was white faced with fury. "Pillocks. I don't want to be in any house they're in."

"Too bad there's no house for arrogant pond scum," Severus groused.

They walked the length of the train, dodging older students who were lounging in the corridors and chatting animatedly about their summer doings, but all of the compartments were occupied. Severus suggested that they could always sit in the baggage car, where he had left his things, but Lily didn't feel too keen on riding to Hogwarts with nothing to sit on but someone else's trunk. Eventually, Severus stopped in front of one compartment and motioned for Lily to follow him.

There were three students who looked to be their age already sitting amongst themselves, yet Lily hesitated upon seeing the occupants. A girl and two boys sat together, close enough that they seemed to be whispering conspiratorially, and looked suspicious when Severus motioned Lily inside. The girl was thin faced and stocky, with sloping shoulders and stubby fingers, which were clutching her wand. The boy nearest Lily was pale and skinny, with thin blond hair and nose like a vulture's beak, while his friend was tall and tan, with dark brown hair. He would have been good looking, except there was a rather cool gleam in his brown eyes.

"Have you got room in here?" Severus wanted to know. "Only we had to leave our last compartment – some idiot was putting on like he was Godric Gryffindor come again."

The girl laughed, an odd, wheezy sound, and the boys both smirked. The thin boy looked like he was about to welcome them to sit, but the other boy stopped him and considered Lily and Severus. "Depends."

Lily felt wariness creep through her. "On what?"

"Whether you're the right sort or not," the good-looking boy leered. "Dangerous times, these. Can't be too careful who one associates with, yeah?"

"We wouldn't want to start off on the wrong foot," the girl tittered.

A dark look of understanding passed over Severus face, and he ushered Lily onward. "Come on, we'll find somewhere else."

"What 'right sort'?" Lily wanted to know as they continued wandering, the hair on the back of her neck prickling when the odd trio laughed unpleasantly as their compartment door closed again.

"It's nothing," Severus told her, not looking at her. "I'm sure they're just the typical rich sods who think they're better than anyone. It's not like we don't know what that type's like, right?"

But from the odd tone and his unwillingness to look at her, Lily felt sure it was something else entirely.

After a second run through the train with no luck, Lily's arms were getting tired of pulling her trunk along. In the end, she steered Severus towards a compartment which was occupied by two people and their owls.

She was cheered to see that one of the people was a familiar face.

Persephone was sitting as far away as possible from a boy with curly chestnut hair and brown eyes who, if possible, looked even more uncomfortable than she did. Every few seconds he would glance up at her in awe, dazzled by her looks, and then hurriedly look back down at his knees; when she noticed him do this, she would turn red and her mouth would firm into a thin line, and she would studiously avoid his gaze until, inevitably, they locked eyes again. Lily would have laughed if the entire exchange hadn't been so pathetic.

"Hi Persephone!" she greeted, putting on a cheerful face and lugging her trunk into the compartment. Severus followed her in reluctantly. "Room in here for two more?"

Persephone nodded, and Lily saw a brief glimmer of appreciation in her eyes. She sat down next to her and smiled at the boy. "I'm Lily Evans, what's your name?"

"C-caradoc Dearborn," the boy stuttered, eyeing Severus warily as he took a seat on the same bench as him.

"Nice to meet you, Caradoc," Lily said warmly. "This is my friend Severus Snape. I hope we're not interrupting anything?"

"Not at all," Persephone said quietly to Lily, a shy smile. "I think if you hadn't shown up, we probably would have spent the whole trip diligently _not_ looking at each other."

"Why? Did you have a row or something?" Lily wanted to know.

Caradoc looked at her blankly. "Course not. Didn' even know 'er name until you walked in." Severus snorted in disbelief, but the brown haired boy went doggedly on. "No, 's'true. Some big cove in a badge come up to me while I was lookin' fer a compartment, said 'e recognized me from last year's Quidditch World Cup – said I was ter look after 'is sister while 'e was up at 'is meetin'. Said if I didn', I'd spend first year finkin' I was a fruit bat. So 'ere I am."

"That's terrible!" Lily exclaimed, and then chanced a glance at Persephone. "Though...I guess it's something that he wants to see you looked after. I wish my sister had that much interest in me."

"It has nothing to do with interest," the pale girl said softly, and despite the questioning glances she got from the others, she looked away and would say no more on the subject.

Lily exchanged glances with Severus, who looked put out for whatever reason, and then smiled again at Caradoc. "Have you got any family at Hogwarts?"

"I'm the first in me family to go since Dad," Caradoc said. "Everyone thought I wouldn' 'ave any magic in me – 'cause Mum's a Muggle – but when I got my letter, they was all right proud."

"Why would they think your Mum being a Muggle had anything to do with it?" Lily asked, nonplussed. "Both of my parents are Muggles, and I've had magic since always."

Severus looked momentarily stricken, but Caradoc was looking at Lily with interest and even Persephone was glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.

"You're Muggleborn?" Caradoc asked eagerly. "Wow! Don' fink I'd be brave enough to admit it to anyone, if it were me."

Worry nagged at Lily, and although she directed the question at Caradoc, she was frowning meaningfully at Severus. "What's so bad about being Muggleborn?"

"Nuffink!" Caradoc squeaked, realizing that somehow he had offended her, "'s just – well, wif all the...all the rumours that have been goin' 'round..."

"What rumours?"

"People are saying that there is a wizard going around who wants to get rid of all the Muggleborns," Persephone spoke up softly. "They say that there are even people disappearing – Muggleborns, and people who stand up to him. He's got a lot of followers. People have stopped even using his name, it's gotten so bad."

Something flickered to life in Lily's memory – a terrible smile and equally horrible voice that whispered threateningly to her – and tuned out the noise of the train and chatter of the others.

'_There are always those who seek more power, who would do anything to get it, even embrace me...something lurks at the edge of the human mind... there is one who rises, whose name his fellow humans are too scared to speak... he has embraced my might...'_

Lily shivered, absently massaging her neck. Catching Severus troubled glance, she asked quietly, "Is it true?"

"Maybe," he hedged, and at her expression added, "but I honestly never thought there was anything to it. I thought it was just that – rumours."

But his eyes told her he had known it to be much more than rumours.

"So...it's dangerous to be a Muggleborn," she said out loud, disheartened.

"I wouldn't worry," Severus said quickly, obviously concerned about upsetting her again. "I already told you Hogwarts is protected by all kinds of enchantments. And you already know all those spells, so you'll be just as clever..."

"You done spells?" Caradoc demanded eagerly, his shyness momentarily abating. "Awright, le'see!"

This time it was Lily who was grateful for the change of subject, and made an effort to forget about the events of that morning and the uneasy feeling that was crouched at the back of her mind like a toad.

"I won't get in trouble, will I?" she asked.

"I think it's an unwritten rule that magic is allowed on the Hogwarts Express," Severus replied wryly, and so she brought out her wand. After explaining that she had really only read the theory, she proceeded to change Severus' robes bright yellow. Caradoc clapped and laughed, Persephone looked impressed, and Severus face registered a mixture of annoyance and surprise.

"You couldn't use it on someone else?" he asked drily, fingering his now bright robes and frowning at her.

"But I practiced with you," Lily protested, unable to keep the pride out of her voice at having successfully cast her first spell. When he continued to give her a dirty look, she sighed huffily and with a wave of her wand, and a murmured '_Multicorfors_', his school robes were back to normal.

This led to Caradoc enthusiastically trying to replicate Lily's spell, and accidentally setting fire to his eyebrows, which led to a rather disorganised attempt to put them out. Despite his lack of eyebrows, Caradoc seemed to think this was jolly good fun and insisted that Lily show him the proper way of performing the spell, which she did while Persephone and Severus looked on. Around half-past twelve Caradoc had succeeded in changing one of his shoelaces a brilliant fuchsia, and further experimentation was stopped when a smiling, dimpled woman slid their door open and asked, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Caradoc was up in an instant, his money bag jingling, and out in the corridor, and after a questioning glance at Lily and Severus, neither of whom had any pocket money, Persephone slipped out as well. They returned – Caradoc with armfuls of colourful looking sweets, and Persephone cradling several bottles of pumpkin juice and boxes labelled Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties. She offered them to Lily and Severus.

Severus wrinkled his nose. "I'm not hungry."

Persephone flushed, and began to withdraw from him in embarrassment. Lily, recognizing the familiar contempt Severus was showing when he thought he was being pitied, gratefully took the food Persephone offered her and interjected, "Liar. I bet you didn't have more than a bowl of stale cereal this morning, unless your mum was in a more cheerful mood than usual." He glared at her, and Lily softened her voice, "Go on, Sev, I can hear your stomach from here."

Still eyeing Persephone suspiciously, Severus took the cakes and pumpkin juice and muttered a stiff, "Thank you," to which Persephone, obviously still affronted, nodded back, equally stiffly.

"Known each other long then?" Caradoc asked as he crammed something chocolaty and wriggling into his mouth.

"A few years now," Lily replied with a smile, noticing the look of momentary contentment at the food that appeared on Severus' face when he didn't think anyone was looking. "Sev's my best mate – in fact, I didn't know I was a witch 'til he told me."

Severus, for his part, lit up with a smile for Lily at this.

"Blimey, wish I was goin' in wif someone from back 'ome," Caradoc murmured, twirling a Liquorice Wand thoughtfully.

"I don't," Persephone piped up, unexpectedly animated, "People you know expect you to live up to stuff whether you like it or not. I wish I could go in and no one knew who I was. Then I could be a complete dunderhead and not get an owl from every second cousin or great-aunt complaining that I've shamed the family."

"Whether you're a complete dunderhead or not is up to you," Severus told her coolly, "It's your choice, not your family's. If I had to listen to everything my family thought I should do, I'd probably have starved to death in a cupboard somewhere before I was five. You've got to look to yourself."

The others looked shocked, however Lily was simply surprised at Severus' fervour, and while she appreciated his attempts to socialize with the other two, something about his words worried her.

"Well, yourself and the people you love and trust, right?" she added brightly, and for some reason when he caught her eye he turned red and muttered, "Yeah."

Persephone looked thoughtful, and Caradoc confused.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder, as neat fields turned into woods and dark green hills, wild rivers twisting in and out of view. Lily's heart began to thud in her chest, a pulsing rhythm that moved in sync with the train wheels thumping across the tracks. Something was pulling at her from wherever the train was going, something familiar and at the same time completely foreign – a wrongness that she knew nonetheless.

She imagined that the closer they went, the louder the strange, thundering laughter in her head was becoming...

'_...you are the last...'_

A knock on the door of their compartment made her look up, and a girl with straggly, mousy hair stuck her head in.

"Is there room in here?" she asked, her voice containing a whimsical note. "Some Slytherin Sixth years were starting to get rowdy up front, so we thought it'd be best to move. You lot don't seem too full up."

Lily and Caradoc moved to make space, Caradoc grinning in nervous apology at Severus as he accidentally trod on his toe, and the girl came in, followed by another, haughtier looking girl with poisonous yellow-green eyes and flaxen hair, and a short, chubby boy with the same mousy hair as the first. All three had already changed into their school robes.

"I'm Delonney Hedgekirk," the mousy haired girl announced, as though she was introducing herself as the queen of England. She had rather sharp grey eyes and very pale skin. "This is my cousin Peter Pettigrew, and this is Marine Blundell. We just met."

They exchanged introductions, and Delonney sat herself comfortably between Lily and Marine. "This is exciting, isn't it? I hope we'll start our lessons right off – has anyone read the book for History of Magic?_ Fascinating _stuff, I think – especially the chapters on prehistoric magic and spell creation..."

Delonney Hedgekirk, it turned out, was one of those people who could monopolize the attention of anyone in a room, a fact which seemed to annoy her cousin. He listened, bored, obviously having heard her speeches before, and surreptitiously helped himself to Caradoc's sweets, which the latter wasn't paying attention to, too focused on Delonney talking about how she had read an interesting article about Albus Dumbledore and the newly discovered twelve uses of dragon's blood. While Severus nodded off against the window, Lily chatted with Marine, who, as it turned out, was from a French pureblood family.

"Papa insisted on 'Ogwarts," she explained airily, "because in 'is opinion, Beauxbatons is too soft. Zey are too set on ze _artistique_ quality of magic, and not ze practical. Maman was upset, of course, but she agrees zat it would be useful to know 'ow to defend myself in zese dark times. And what eez a _leetle_ trip across ze channel, _non_? We can well afford it."

The other girl continued on in this vein for a while, and although a lot of what she said sounded arrogant and snooty, she had an infectious urchin grin and a way of putting things that soon had Lily amused despite herself.

"...and so, for ze rest of ze day, my bruzzer 'ad to go around wiz pumpkin juice spilled all over 'is robes, because Maman would not give 'im 'is wand back – 'e looked as zough 'e 'ad wet himself!" Marine sniggered, and Lily and Caradoc laughed, while Severus smirked wanly, "Of course, I 'ad to go ze rest of ze week wiz a 'uge part of my 'air cut out, but eet was worz it. Reynaud never touched my Chocolate Frog Cards again."

The rest of her story was interrupted as a voice, magically modified to echo throughout the train.

"_We will be arriving at Hogsmeade Station in five minutes. Please be changed into your uniforms and leave your other belongings on the train. Thank you."_

After asking Delonney and Marine where they could change into their robes, Lily and Persephone left the compartment with their things to do as the voice on speaker had requested. As she got dressed, Lily considered the uniform for the first time – she hadn't given much thought to her robes when she bought them, distracted by the annoying James Potter for one thing, for another she had been too excited about finally getting her want.

The Hogwarts uniform was unlike anything Lily had ever seen before. Both boys and girls wore grey, v-neck jumpers or vests made of wool, their necklines matching the repeating colour scheme of their ties –red and gold, green and silver, yellow and black, blue and bronze – over plain white Oxford shirts. Lily had noticed before that all of the older students had ties with different colours on them; hers was merely grey, just like the other First Years. Boys wore grey trousers – and Lily had noticed Peter wearing a grey blazer over his jumper as well – while the girls wore pleated grey skirts. But the thing that made it differ from Muggle school uniforms was the long black robe with silver fastenings, which Lily surmised from the letter was to be worn at all times. She had seen several older students with coloured patches on the left-breast of their robe, which she supposed were the house emblems, and when she asked Persephone, the other girl nodded.

"You get your house colours once you've been Sorted," the girl said, and for some reason she sounded particularly miserable now.

Now that they were alone, Lily thought she might have better luck finding out what Persephone was so upset about. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I-I'm fine," Persephone said, trying to draw herself up and failing.

"You can tell me, you know," Lily wheedled, "I know we haven't exactly known each other long...but I won't tell a soul. Not even Sev, I promise."

Persephone considered her carefully, and then to Lily's surprise, she burst into tears.

"I don't w-want to be in S-Slytherin," she sobbed, her face coming over all blotchy. In an instant her beauty was gone, and she looked terrible, her face almost beak-like. "A-all of Lucius's _horrid_ friends are there...and they've t-teased me and treated me terrible for years...always playing t-tricks and cursing me...and calling me _dirty_ _half-breed_ when our parents aren't around...Lucius never f-forgave Father for marrying Mother after his mother d-died...but he's t-too scared to blame them, s-so he puts it out on m-me!" She hiccoughed. "I-if I have to spend all my time with h-him and his cronies the next y-year, I just know I'm going to d-die! And now that h-he's a p-prefect, I won't even be able to g-get away from him after s-school!"

Lily, taken aback, instantly reached out to comfort the crying girl. After a momentary tensing, Persephone allowed her to pat her gently on the shoulder. "Sh-sh-sh...! What's wrong with Slytherin? Surely there'll be others you can make friends with?"

Persephone shook her head fiercely. "Lucius will make everyone think it's alright to t-treat me like that – and it won't be hard, either, because most of our family is in Slytherin – even if they don't like her, Mother was one too, which they always joke is a big accomplishment because she's a half-Veela – and they'll be having a go at Father too, they say he's gone odd – everyone in Slytherin is so obsessed with blood purity. You get treated like an animal if you're not a pureblood."

This news surprised Lily, who knew how keen Severus was on being a Slytherin and wanted her to be one as well. But as she was slowly learning, Severus hadn't been completely honest in some ways, which she hadn't noticed before.

'Why would he want me in a house that doesn't even _like_ Muggleborns?" Lily thought in confusion, but rather then dwell on it, she squeezed Persephone's shoulder comfortingly.

"Well, I don't know what a Veela is," she told her seriously, "But it can't be as a bleak as that. I'm sure if you're going to be miserable, no one will make you go there."

Persephone sniffed, and pulled away. Her porcelain features had rearranged themselves back into the look of the painted girl, although her eyes were red now. "Even if I'm going to be miserable, I've got to go. My p-parents will be so displeased if I'm n-not."

"Sod 'em," Lily said, feeling briefly like she was channelling her father. Persephone looked shocked, and she went on determinedly. "It's like Severus said, isn't it? You've got to look out for yourself sometimes – not always, mind, but I'd say in this case you definitely need to." And she offered a comforting smile. "And besides – wherever you end up, even if you do get stuck in Slytherin – we'll be friends, right?"

Persephone looked doubtful a moment, and then a steely look entered her eyes. "Yes, we will. And I don't care if you're Muggleborn."

"Thanks," Lily said, unsure if this was a compliment or not. "Now cheer up – let's go back to the others. I'm sure Sev is probably getting ready to curse Caradoc for spilling pumpkin juice or something else on him by now."

Persephone smiled weakly, finished wiping her tears and set her shoulders. "Alright, let's go."

They met up with the others, who had cleaned away the sweets and empty pumpkin juice bottles. Peter had managed to sit in the remainder of a Cauldron Cake, and was desperately trying to wipe as much of it off as he could, turning around and around trying to see his backside, reminding Lily of a rat chasing its tale. She wasn't sure if Severus took pity on him, or simply got annoyed watching him, because he barked out a harsh, "_Scourgify_!", and a jet of soapy bubbles shot from his wand and scoured the mess from the boy, but leaving a rather dark wet spot down the back of his school robes.

"Well, it's better than it was," Severus said defensively when he noticed Lily's raised eyebrow, and she made a face.

As the train slowed, Lily's stomach lurched with nerves, and she felt like she had a nest of wasps in her stomach, sending jolting stings at her from inside. The echoing, ominous voice was more than just a thought here.

'_...you are the last..._' it told her determinedly, but she blocked it out, joining the others in pocketing whatever sweets still lay among the seats.

There was a jolting stop and the train finally stopped. Lily followed the throng of people pushing their way towards the doors off, until she found herself outside on a tiny, dark platform, the cool night air nipping at her and filling her lungs with a fresh smell that was a nice change from the closed air of the train.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years, over here," called a voice, and when they looked over, they saw a giant of a man, swinging a large oil-lamp. He was almost twice as tall as a normal human being was and at least five times as wide. He easily towered over every student, but behind the wild tangles of bushy black hair and beard that hid most of his face, there was a cheery smile that one couldn't help but like. Above everyone, he beckoned the First Years.

"I guess we follow him?" Lily suggested to Severus, who nodded. She turned round to look for the others. "Hey, Persephone?"

Persephone, who Lily saw was exchanging a look with her brother, turned around, her face carefully composed. Looking beyond her, Lily could see that Lucius was looking at her with disdain from his place near the front of the train, a sneering blond girl about his age holding onto his arm. His school robes billowed magnificently behind him, making him look older and crueller for some reason.

"Come on," Caradoc nudged Lily from behind them. "I'm hungry…the faster we go after this cove, we can eat."

"You've been eating the whole way up!" Lily chided, but privately agreed.

While walking towards the giant man, someone bumped Lily hard from behind and she went sprawling onto the ground – had it not been for the man, who had caught her, she might have damaged her new robes.

"Careful there," the man said gruffly, pulling Lily up with ease. She sent a glare in James Potter's direction and looked up at the man.

"Thank you," she said.

"Yer welcome," the man replied, before straightening up and waving his lantern again. "Firs' Years! Over here! Get in them there boats, and be careful not to tip 'em!"

"I can curse him for you, if you like," Severus said quietly in her ear as he, Persephone and Caradoc joined her in one of the tipsy little boats. He was glaring after the retreating back of the bespectacled boy. "I could probably hit him from here if I tried."

"You really want to get in trouble before term even starts?" Lily hissed, pushing her friend's wand away from him. "They might decide to send you right home!"

Severus looked dubious, but lowered his arm.

"Everyone in?" the giant of a man called. He didn't wait for a reply before calling, "Off!"

The fleet of boats pushed off from the lake edge, and with a squeak, Caradoc clasped on to Lily.

"I can't swim," he explained when Lily sent him a questioning look.

She turned to ask Severus if he had noticed anything, but he was staring ahead of them all, his eyes alight with joy.

"Oh, look!" another First Year cried, pointing ahead, and Lily immediately forgot the edgy feeling. The castle that she recognized as Hogwarts from the pictures in her Severus' copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ loomed before them, becoming larger and larger as they got closer.

A sharp, fresh smell made Lily lurch suddenly, her arm splashing into the water in surprise. It was the smell of forest and river, and of old things that no longer had names – it made her dizzy, her blood charged as though an electric current was running through her. The air around her seemed to pulse, and she was sure she could hear whispers in the night.

They entered a tunnel like place that led to a sort of underground harbour, and finally got off, much to Lily's relief, as Caradoc's fingers had been digging into her arms.

"Alright, you lot, come on!"

The First Years followed the man up a stone staircase and stopped before a tall, oak front door.

* * *

><p>AN: I should probably clear up several matters before continuing on:

Keep in mind, although I am trying to keep as close to the canon as possible, this is _fantasy_ story, meaning instead of simply re-hashing Lily's seven years at Hogwarts like every other person out there is doing, I'm trying to write Lily an adventure of her own which will affect her son when I get back to him.

This first instalment of Lily's life is meant to show Severus Snape as _she_ knew him. He has not yet embraced the Dark Arts, though I'm trying to hint at his future path. Subsequent sequels will show this a lot more, but for now, all of you Snape-haters are going to have to accept that Lily and Severus are the best of friends

Regarding Persephone Malfoy, who I am aware comes off as a little Mary-Sueish because she's a Malfoy and a half-Veela – she's a character I created about six years ago and have since reworked a lot to try to weed out as many elements that would be considered "Mary Sue" – these two particular elements refused to change, so I left them. She is an OC, but no – this story is not about her, although she is going to have a large effect on what happens in Lily's first year – and no, she doesn't have any special, non-canon powers that sometimes get attributed to Veela. **_LILY EVANS_** **is the main character in this story**, and will remain so through every subsequent sequel until her character goes on to her reward as the good Ms. Rowling originally wrote. That being said, give Persephone a chance, as she – like all of the characters I'm using – has a good deal of room for growth and personal development. Oh, and in case you didn't get it, Persephone's mother is Abraxas Malfoy's _second_ wife, married after Lucius' mother died, so for you canon-sticklers, this means that Draco Malfoy has absolutely no Veela blood in him. Just call Abraxas a dirty old man looking for a trophy wife and let's be done with it.

Marine Blundell belongs to my very dear friend Megan, so any props for Marine will be passed on to her.

A note on Caradoc Dearborn – I have him speaking in a cockney accent, however as my knowledge of cockney is sadly limited to Spike from BTVS, I've tried to keep it at a minimum for the sake of not offending anyone who actually does speak in a cockney accent. I'll occasionally throw in some slang, sayings and whatnot, but I'm not even going to attempt the full on accent because I know I won't do it justice. Apologies. I wanted to give him an Irish accent, but the little bugger kept sounding cockney in my head, so he got his wish :P And yes, I frequently have conversations with my characters. Don't you?

TBC


	7. Chapter Seven: Slytherin's Say

_**Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc**_  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

_**"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."**_

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><p><em>AN: I make use of some passages from Deathly Hallows in this chapter. They belong to J.K. Rowling and not to me, although I've tried to paraphrase them properly. I use them only to make the chapter more authentic and canon. Please don't sue me, I'm a poor student with no money to give you.<em>

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><p>– CHAPTER SEVEN – <em>Slytherin's Say<em>

The large man knocked on the door, shaking it to its very wrought iron hinges, and then there was silence as everyone waited with baited breath.

Lily's blood was still humming through her veins, charged, and she was hyperaware of the sounds from the forest far in the distance. She could practically feel the rustle of every leaf, the tread of animals across the paths, and a haunting call that beckoned her to with whimsical sadness.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked her suddenly, and she came back to herself with a jolt. She had turned away from the large door and was staring off in the direction of the forest she could not see, but could somehow feel. Several other First Years were looking at her oddly, and Potter was sniggering at her. Feeling her cheeks warm up, she shook her head in answer to Severus' question and turned back to the large door, just in time to see it open with a loud creak.

An older woman swept out, her long, elegant maroon robes swirled around her. She had a stern face, but there was an odd quirk to her mouth that suggested that while it was rare that she smiled, it was not a gesture completely foreign to her features. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun and she looked down at the First Years severely.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she addressed them archly. "Thank you, Hagrid – I will take them from here."

The wild-haired man bid a gruff adieu and sidled out off into the dark.

She made a beckoning gesture and the First Years piled into the entrance hall, over the flagstone floor and through a hallway that was so large that it could have fit the entire Hogwarts Express inside it several times. The stone walls were lit with torches that cast sinister shadows across the marble staircase that led upwards to what Lily decided must be the beginning of many floors yet to come.

"I am Professor McGonagall," the woman introduced herself. "In a few moments I will lead you into the Great Hall for the start-of-term banquet, but before we all embark on yet another school year, you are to be Sorted."

The word itself wasn't threatening, but Lily shivered. Several other First Years gulped audibly.

"The Sorting is the most important rite of passage of any student in this school, with the exception of academic achievement," Professor McGonagall explained. "At the Sorting you will be placed in one of the four Hogwarts houses – Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, all of which have their own noble history and which have turned out thousands of fine witches and wizards since this school opened. Thus, you will become part of a legacy of centuries and embark on a journey that will deeply affect your future."

She studied the First Years as though she was somewhat doubtful of what kind of future such a rag tag bunch could have.

"Given the nature of this school, your house will become your family for as long as you are deemed suitable to remain at Hogwarts," she continued, "Whatever house you are sorted into, I hope that you will take pride in it, your housemates and in all that you do. Triumphs here at Hogwarts will earn you House points, but if you break any rules –" her eyes narrowed slightly at James Potter, who was chatting animatedly with his friend from the train, "– the professors as well as the prefects have the ability and the responsibility to deduct points from you. At the end of the year, the House that accumulates the greatest amount of points is accorded the honour of the House Cup."

Professor McGonagall led the First Years through a corridor and then they entered a gigantic room, lit with floating candles. The ceiling looked as though there was none there at all, the clear skies of the exterior of the castle stretching over the packed Hall. Lily stared up in awe at the ceiling as she and the other First Years walked through the hall. She didn't care how many times Severus had quoted _Hogwarts: A History_, to her, she hadn't been completely prepared for the amazing sight. She almost didn't notice the whispers or the gazes of the older students as they passed the tables where they were all seated.

One table was elevated above the others on a dais, and placed perpendicular to the four tables which Lily supposed were for each house. There, the teachers had seated themselves to face the students, and in the middle, sitting on a more elaborate chair than the teachers, was the man that Lily could only surmise to be Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster.

She was immediately struck by how he seemed exactly how she would have pictured him and yet absolutely nothing like anyone she had ever seen. He certainly fit the stereotype of a wizard, with his dark blue robes that were speckles with shooting stars which actually whizzed around his robes, his crooked nose and his long silver hair that reached almost to his knees. He could probably tuck it into his belt, she thought, and something about his twinkling blue eyes, visible even from where she stood, suggested that he did so on a regular basis just for the fun of it.

Beyond the bemused smile she noticed a very slight tension set into his wrinkles, like an age old sadness that had never really gone away. In that moment, she knew that when he had written to Petunia, it had been with a heartfelt, genuine regret that he couldn't help her.

And Lily immediately liked him all the more for it.

Professor McGonagall led them through the middle gap between the four long tables, and had them form a line facing the students and with their backs to the teachers, which cause Lily to notice for the first time just how many students were at Hogwarts. There seemed to be thousands of faces staring over at her and the others first years.

Her knees began to buckle as Professor McGonagall swept forward and placed a four-legged stool that looked as though it had been chewed to pieces by termites in front of the First Years, and then laid a worn out hat upon it. The hat was patched and frayed, looking very much like it had been dug out of one of the clothing bins her mother got together during church donations.

The older students' attention turned to the hat, and whatever whispers had been echoing through the Great Hall ceased abruptly.

Lily couldn't help following the collective gazes, and started in surprise as the hat began to twitch, and a clear, echoing voice suddenly emitted from a seam near the brim of the hat.

'_Twas many, many years ago,  
>That four mages not of kin,<br>In times of darkness and of woe  
>Broke with Muggle chagrin.<br>They hatched a new and cunning plan,  
>One never concocted before,<br>To teach witches and wizards both,  
>That magic truly was much more.<br>Brave Godric Gryffindor chose first,  
>Seeking warriors brave and true,<br>Sly Salazar Slytherin's own thirst,  
>Sought students refined and few.<br>Fair Rowena, was wont to prefer  
>Only the wise in Ravenclaw,<br>While Helga Hufflepuff's chosen were  
>All and any that she saw.<br>Now these four could hardly fail to see,  
>That once Death took its toll,<br>Their successors might well disagree,  
>Into which houses students to enrol.<br>So off of Gryffindor's head came I  
>And filled with brains I was,<br>To Sort you youngsters with a cry,  
>And welcome you to our school's cause.<em>

Lily clapped along with the rest of the students, and she glanced at Persephone who looked slightly sick. Although none to confident herself, Lily patted the other girl on the shoulder. Persephone gave no sign of having noticed her.

The hat bowed to the four tables in turn as applause shook the hall, and then became still once more as Professor McGonagall strode forward, pulling a scroll of parchment out of her robes.

"When I call your name, you will come up here and put on the Sorting Hat," she told them. "And yes, you will do so in front of the entire school. It's tradition." She cleared her throat. "Avery, Oberon."

The pale, skinny boy with blond hair from the train slouched forward out of the line and put on the hat, which had barely been righted on his head before it shouted, _"_SLYTHERIN!"

The table second to the right cheered and clapped as the boy strode forward and sat down, looking pleased with himself.

"Black, Sirius!"

The boy who had been in the compartment with James Potter grinned nervously at his new friend and trotted up to the hat, which he eyed warily before putting it on. The hat was silent for several seconds, before,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table to the far left of the hall cheered. For a moment Sirius looked surprised as he got off of his chair, glancing over towards it almost askance. Then, he shrugged, a grin on his face once again and moved over to the table, striking up a conversation with two older redheaded boys who could only be twins.

A square-jawed brunette by the name of Amelia Bones was sorted into Ravenclaw, and then Marine Blundell stalked forward and resolutely jammed the hat on her head. It was over a minute before the hat proclaimed her a Slytherin, and as she went to sit at that table, she looked as though she doubted that Hat's wisdom.

There were several other names called – Caradoc became the first Hufflepuff of the night to tumultuous cheers from the house on the right – and then Lily froze as Professor McGonagall called out, "Evans, Lily!"

She thought she would have a hard time getting her legs, which suddenly felt like lead, to move, but managed when Severus nudged her forward.

She staggered onward, her legs trembling more with each step, and lowered herself down onto the rickety stool. The last thing she saw as Professor McGonagall set it down over her eyes was Severus' face, full of hope and anxiousness. The next second she was looking at the unending darkness within the hat.

She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath somewhere beside her, and a voice murmured, "It's been centuries since I've had one of you."

There was a brief moment when Lily though the hat was talking about Muggleborns, but then the voice added, "This is not my decision to make, child, best leave it to the founders directly," and there was a sudden, shuddering pull, like the world being rolled over and over upside out.

Lily cried out, and tried to pull of the hat, hoping that would make it stop the dizzying whirl of movement, but suddenly found that she was no longer beneath the hat, and that she was simply surrounded by darkness all over. The great hall was gone, and the people in it had vanished as well.

Lily felt a mounting terror as she looked down at herself, seeing that she was the only one there, wandering through the vast blackness in her Hogwarts robes.

"Hello?" she called fearfully, trying to keep herself calm. "Is anyone there?"

There was no answer, although she heard an echoing whisper, like something coming from the bottom of a well, and she felt her knees began to tremble. She stepped forward, wondering if her movement might jar her back to reality, but nothing happened. Her footsteps resonated in the empty darkness.

"Well, this is lovely and all," she said loudly, "but I've got to get back. I'm being Sorted, you see, and it's rather important, so if someone could just...tell me how to get back...?"

"_You will not be missed_," a woman's cool voice told her, different from the enchanted voice of the Sorting Hat. "_We are outside time and beyond space – this moment is eternal, but to you will be no more than the interval between heartbeats_."

Lily looked around, trying to see who was talking to her. "Who's there?"

A snide voice. "_Not exceptionally bright, is she_?"

"_Do not try to see with your eyes, child, you will only see the inside of a hat_," a kind voice told her, "_We are not grounded beyond our forms – you must provide the forum for us to interact_."

Lily was confused, but a fourth voice said gruffly, "_The first place that jumps to mind, lass, that is all we require_."

Lily immediately thought of her home – her living room, with all of its comfortable, mismatched furniture and the smoky smell of her father's pipe, and the fireplace that had a roaring flame in it until the first dawnings of spring and which wasn't lit again until the first frost of the year.

Immediately, the darkness began to recede and Lily found herself standing in the middle of her living room, the familiar scents and sights warming her spirit. But there was something distinctly different about the people who surrounded her. It wasn't the faces of her family which peered at her from four different directions, but four strangers – and what strangers they were! Each of the magnificent four men and women stood in one corner of the room, looking utterly magical and completely out of place in the Muggle abode.

"_Well met, Lily Evans_," the first woman spoke, standing directly in front of her, still managing to look completely regal despite the ratty sofa-chair behind her. She was so tall and intimidating that Lily cowered slightly, barely noticing the unquestionable beauty of her porcelain skin and long lashes; inky black tresses shone almost blue in the light and her dark eyes were wells of what Lily could only image was endless intelligence. Unlike her companions, while her robes were rich in quality, they were plainer and more austere. Indeed, the only adornment she had on her was an object that looked as though it didn't belong, a tiara of some sort, jewelled in the middle and shaped like the spread wings of a bird.

Beside her, leaning casually by the television, was a burly man. He had wild tangles of red hair that surrounded his head and shoulder like a lion's mane, and coupled with the leonine length of his face, he bore a striking resemblance to the great predator. His eyes were the colour of an ancient forest, filled with the wisdom of age, but a spark of mischievousness. Given the colour of his hair and the richness of the embroidered burgundy robes, she would have expected him to be a ruddy-looking man, but his skin was pale as the moon beneath his beard. Clasped before him he held a huge silver sword, whose handles glittered with rubies the size of golf-balls. Below the hilt and down the length of the blade, the engraved name _Godric Gryffindor_ gleamed at her.

Lily's mouth went dry as realization overcame her, and she studied the next stranger, the woman by the fireplace, more carefully. This one was shorter and plumper than the first, her hair a darker red than the man beside her, and her warm blue eyes glittered kindly, and Lily found she was calmed just by looking into them. Her cheeks were red and dimpled, but there was firmness to her mouth that suggested she was not to be taken lightly because of her disarming looks. Like the others, she dressed in beautifully embroidered robes of a handsome yellow, and a long black cloak. She had a small golden cup clasped in her hands, looking remarkably like the Mill Town carollers who sang for charity donations at Christmastime.

The fourth was glaring at her openly and unabashedly, his thick grey eyebrow knotted together and his jaw trembling with so much rage that his white beard, which fell almost to the bottom of his sweeping robes, seemed to sway back and forth. Unlike the other three, he seemed ancient, his cheeks hallow and his somewhat sunken, reminding her in a moment of inappropriate humour, of a picture of a spider monkey that she had seen once, albeit one with sallow skin. A heavy locket hung from around his neck, it's glittering green stone inlay almost thick enough to blur the serpentine _S_ that gleamed as the man quivered with his odd anger. He looked around her living room as though he was standing mired in the mess of a pig sty or some other filthy locale.

A faint purr caught her attention, and she looked down, utterly surprised to see the cat sliding around her feet. Its coat rippled with the movement, momentarily solid in orange, but the vibrations spoke for the creature's true form. The cat's presence comforted her, but at the same time, it nagged at her memory...

"What's going on?" Lily whispered, and then when she looked back at the four people standing in what looked like her living room, she laughed nervously, "So, this is how the Sorting Hat always gets it right, then? You're all here, in the Hat?"

"_See what I mean_?" the snide man said, "_A complete lack of logic. I see no reason why any discussion concerning her future must be made_."

Lily had no time to feel anger, as the kind woman interrupted, and when she spoke, her inflection was so similar to that of Lily's father that the girl felt a bubble of homesickness engulf her: "_Now, now, Salazar, she is understandably confused. No one has explained anything to her yet_."

"_It is not our place to mettle or interpret the destinies of the living, Helga_," the dark haired woman with the heavy Scottish brogue told her companion. "_We have been summoned to decide which of our noble houses will best aid her on her path – to ensure she stays upon that path which has been left to her. Let others see to her instruction_."

"Hold on!" Lily cried, "What are you talking about?" She threw a cautious glance around her. "Why does this seem so familiar, this place...?"

"_Allow me to make this easier_," the embodiment of Salazar Slytherin jeered. "_She will not be one of mine. No Muggleborn – whether she bears the Lefay Torc or not – will ever be claimed by me_."

The name rang a bell, but Lily couldn't puzzle it out for the life of her. The cat winding around her legs hissed at the old man, who grimaced back at it.

"_Come now, old friend, that's rather harsh_," the other man objected archly in a thick, West Country accent. "_We know that she embodies many of your own traits – even some of the less admirable ones. Clever, resourceful, determined, a born leader – and something tells me she has less regard for rules than she pretends_."

"_If you wish to consider her intelligence, then Rowena is the more likely candidate to claim her_," Slytherin said dismissively. "_And let us not completely ignore how much courage she must have to even come near to completing what has been ordained for her. That would make her one of your charges, Godric. Unless, of course, you would like to foist her off on Helga, where all the cast-offs end up anyhow?_"

"_Now, really_," Hufflepuff's voice was laced with annoyance."_Every child with the gift of magic deserves to be taught, and I resent you implying any of my chosen are cast offs – oh, this is neither here nor there! We have had this argument before and it has no bearing on what we must decide now_!"

"Excuse me..." Lily piped up, her head swivelling back and forth between the four.

"_If you cannot be impartial, Salazar, the three of us will decide for you_," Gryffindor boomed. "_Or do you not recall how the majority ruled in ages past?_"

The look Slytherin sent Gryffindor was murderous, but then he smoothed his features and said in an oily tone, "_My disavowal of her as a Slytherin has no bearing on my belief in the importance of the task at hand. I have never forgiven that _abomination_ for what he did to the last wizard who wore the Torc. Mind you, that one was a pureblood, and if he could not last long, I have very little hope for this one..._"

"Hey!" Lily cried, both out of annoyance at the older man's continued insults directed at her and the founders pointed ignorance of her entreaties. Giving up on being polite, she waved her hands about, trying to catch the attention of the founders, or at least what appeared to be the founders. They ignored her. She frowned at the cat. "Can't _you_ do something?"

The cat made a distinct shrugging motion, and began to clean its paw.

"_If she had been but a half-blood, I _might_ have briefly entertained the thought_," Slytherin murmured quietly, almost defensively.

"_It always comes back to blood with you_," Ravenclaw sighed. "_Stubbornness is not exactly your most endearing quality, you know_."

"_And ignoring what is fact in favour of _possibility_ is not one of yours_," came the snide retort. "_Whatever your beliefs concerning blood status, you cannot argue that the last one was not infinitely better prepared than this one_." The other three exchanged uncomfortable glance. "_He knew what was expected and did whatever it took to carry it out – and then, of all the damnable luck, he married a Muggle or his child was a Squib, and the Torc has been passed on to Muggles are these years – I truly wonder how they could have kept it safe for so long._"

"_Well, it does amplify natural gifts_," Ravenclaw interjected, "_and contrary to your biases, Muggles have their own strengths –_"

Lily couldn't take it any longer.

"WILL SOMEBODY LISTEN TO ME?" she shouted angrily, her voice echoing off the corners of the room in a way it never would have in real life.

The four were immediately silent, looking surprised, as though an inanimate object had suddenly given to speaking.

"I don't know if you lot have noticed, but I'm in the middle of my Sorting ceremony and might possibly be sitting in front of a thousand people with a dirty great hat on my head talking to myself and you're arguing over something that concerns me, but which none of you will explain! Now either tell me what's going on, or send me back so that I can gather up the shards of my dignity – seeing as how it looks like none of you want me – and go back home!" She breathed deeply. "And another thing...!" Not knowing how much longer her courage would hold out, she rounded on Salazar Slytherin and fixed him with the most disdainful look she could muster. "_You_ are a _git."_

There was a ringing silence.

And then Godric Gryffindor roared with laughter, Helga Hufflepuff tittered nervously and even Rowena Ravenclaw cracked a smile. Slytherin, for his part, was momentarily stunned, obviously having never been spoken to like that in his life by a child, before a dark look came into his eyes.

"_If I had any magic left in me_," his sinister sneer trailed away into a low hiss, and Lily's eyes widened at what she heard.

"That's rude," she told him. "Whoever your mother was, I bet she's right ashamed of you."

Again Gryffindor laughed. "_Well, if no one else wants her, I will take her – gods above, she has spunk. And even if she did not have all the right qualities for one of my own, the look on old Snaketongue there is priceless_." He sobered up a little and then glanced Ravenclaw. "_Unless you had your heart set on her_?"

Ravenclaw pursed her lips.

"_I would take her, except..._" she paused and looked Lily over thoughtfully, "_I sense that she is more oft ruled by her heart than her head. Were she a little _less_ impulsive, I would claim her_."

"_You would be a welcome addition to Hufflepuff_," the other woman said, still smiling kindly. "_However, I do agree with Godric. I believe you are more suited to his brood than mine_."

"_Then it's settled!_" Gryffindor clapped his hands together. "_We should adjourn, and –_"

"Now hang on a minute!" Lily interrupted. "No one's told me what this torc thing is? Why do I keep hearing about?" She racked her memory. "I know I've heard it before..."

The founders exchanged glances, as though unsure of what to say. The cat by her feet let out a warning growl.

"_We do not know what it is_," Ravenclaw told her mildly, eyes on the cat. "_Only that it exists. The Torc was created after our time, and is thus beyond the ken of the consciousnesses of the founders which resides within this enchanted space_." She smiled slightly at Lily's stunned look. "_You thought you were truly speaking to the Hogwarts founders? Impossible – they are long dead. The dead can only be reached by crossing the Veil_."

"_We only know of the Torc because we remember every soul that has been Sorted_," Hufflepuff explained. "_Centuries ago, there were several generations of witches and wizards about whom we sensed the hand of fate_."

"_When fate speaks, even enchantments and magic listen_," Gryffindor continued. "_In the cases of these souls, the requirements the founders left with the Sorting Hat were no longer adequate. These souls – yourself included – required a more thorough decision_. _And your input_."

"So this is all happening in my head," Lily said, miserable. "I really am sitting on a stool, talking to myself?"

"_Evidently you were not listening before_," Slytherin pronounced silkily. "_The Hat has its own magic. Those who bear the Torc are not the only ones who sometimes need to be considered lengthily...they simply are the ones who do take the longest. There is a charm within this hat that slows time for the one who wears it._"

"_Regardless_," Ravenclaw said dismissively. "_The truth will be made known to you soon enough. Those who created the Torc enchanted it well to provide for its wearers._"

Lily was quiet, digesting this, and the memory that kept nagging at her started to shake loose. The cat was looking at her again in its eerily human way. Memories of a terrible voice echoed from far away, causing the figures of the founders to look around in unease.

"Cat-Sidhe," Lily said suddenly, blinking at the cat in recognition. "I was dead...or dying, wasn't I? Something like this – it's happened before."

The cat meowed in answer, and Lily shivered.

She wanted to leave this place. The sooner, the better.

Slytherin was regarding her coolly, almost as though he could hear her thoughts.

Glancing at the other founders out of the corner of his eyes, he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. Immediately it seemed as though a faint buzzing was blocking the others, and he caught her eyes with his own ancient grey eyes.

"_That pugilistic prat may have claimed you, but before you celebrate, I think you should know that the few Torc wearers in his house were the shortest-lived of any_," he hissed maliciously. "_Always rushing in to prove their courage and getting themselves killed for it. I may have no use for you, but the power in the relic you carry is something of great interest to me_." His eyes were mere slits now. "_Heed me, girl. If Anord comes for you, look to yourself. Save yourself_."

He straightened up and Lily's hearing returned to normal as he drawled, "_If you survive long enough, do marry a wizard_." To the others he aimed a defiant, "_At least that way the next one might be a mite _prepared_ for the responsibility_."

"_Shall we send her back, then_?" Hufflepuff suggested.

"_In a moment_," Ravenclaw said. "_One last thing must be accomplished. _Geasa_."_

"Geasa_,_" repeated the others.

"Geasa," Slytherin said lazily, and Lily felt a slippery blankness form at the edge of her mind.

"What...?"

Slytherin leered at her. "_That is so that you do not go shooting your mouth off about our little chat, girl. Torc or no, I do not trust you not to get yourself or others killed in this venture_."

"I thought you had no magic," Lily demanded hotly.

"_I do not_," the man told her contemptuously. "_But that she-demon you are so fond of does. She simply does not have a human mouth to speak from._"

Cat-Sidhe snarled at him, and he shrugged.

Lily opened her mouth to say something incredibly rude herself, but the world had already darkened and sound rushed back to, going from so quiet she might have heard a pin drop, to the excited whispering that echoed from beyond what she could see within the hat.

"That's all squared away, then?" the small voice in her ear said. "Well, I must say, I had my doubts, but now I agree – you have a hard path ahead of you, one only the bravest can walk – and the bravest of all belong to GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily heard the hall tremble as the hat shouted the last word to the entire hall.

She stood mechanically, as the real world rushed back to her, and removed the hat from her head. She passed it to Professor McGonagall mechanically, and started toward the cheering Gryffindors. With each step, the memory of what had just happened to her began to blur, until she only had the vaguest recollection.

As she walked, she couldn't help seeing Severus' face fall, and she tried to send him an apologetic look, but knew that it was clouded by both confusion at what had just happened and the sadness that they wouldn't be in the same house. She wouldn't be able to tell him what had happened, she knew, but it might have been nice to have a familiar face to sit with to keep the uneasy thoughts from eating away at her.

Upon making it to the Gryffindor bench, someone moved aside to make room for her, and she sat down before she got a good look at him and recognized Sirius Black. Memory from beyond the Sorting came back to her, easier than the hat's memory, and she recalled how he had made fun of her and Seceruson the train with James Potter. Folding her arms, she turned her back on him, deciding that she would move at the first opportunity.

"Bad cess to him," one of the redheaded twins next to Lily muttered after another First Year named Goyle became a Slytherin.

"Why?" Lily asked vaguely as Delonney Hedgekirk was called.

"There's not a witch or wizard that went bad who wasn't in Slytherin," his twin said darkly.

"What do you mean by that?" Lily wanted to know, forcing herself to pay attention to the present as the details of her sojourn within the hat became near impossible to recall.

"You mean you don't know?" the first twin said, raising his eyebrows. Lily was vaguely aware of Delonney being sorted into Ravenclaw in the background.

"Must be Muggleborn," said the other, but he didn't say it in an insulting way, more a realization.

"There's a wizard going about now targeting Muggles and Muggleborns," was the explanation, and Lily remembered the turn the conversation on the Hogwarts Express had taken. "It's been going on for a few years now. According to our brother-in-law at the Ministry, most folks suspected of being Dark wizards – well, they were all in Slytherin."

Lily turned away, feeling numb.

So there was a lot more to this dislike of Muggleborns than even Severus knew. Or had he known all along? She peeked back at the line of unsorted First Years, and saw that he was watching her. She tried to respond to his nervous smile, but found that she couldn't. The knowledge of the very real danger, and the muddled warnings she recalled from the hat, just highlighted how much she didn't know about the wizarding world.

Up near the dais, Professor McGonagall called out, "Lupin, Remus", and the pale, tawny haired boy who had asked if she was alright that morning shuffled up to the Hat, a look of pure terror on his face.

"_GRYFFINDOR_!"

With relief flooding over his face, he came over and sat between herself and Black.

She pasted a welcoming smile on her face to belie her deep thoughts. "Congratulations."

"Th-thanks," he said, shuddering slightly. "I thought it was going to tell me there'd been a mistake and I really wasn't good enough for Hogwarts."

"I heard the Sorting Hat's never wrong," she told him encouragingly.

"How come you talk to him, eh?" Black demanded, and Lily looked at him as though he was a particularly nasty insect.

"Because unlike you, he seems to have a shred of human decency."

"Tell off one slimy git and you're branded for life," Black sighed. "What is the world coming to?"

Lily was about retort, but Professor McGonagall had called out, "Malfoy, Persephone", and she promptly forgot all about Black and her own muddled thoughts.

Persephone appeared to have completely bypassed looking pale and right now appeared an alarming shade of green. She stumbled several times on her way to the stool, something which seemed completely incongruous with her naturally graceful gait, and she sat down quickly on the stool, allowing Professor McGonagall to place the hat on her.

For four and a half minutes, the hall was silent, watching the badly shaking shoulders of the girl. Whispers broke out, and Lily chanced a glance at the Slytherin table, where Persephone's brother was watching the affair hawkishly.

And then,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Shock rippled throughout the hall. While the Gryffindors cheered requisitely for the new addition, Lily noticed that over half of the Slytherin house was silent, their loudest reactions stunned whispers to their neighbours. Persephone herself hadn't moved from the chair, and it was only when Professor McGonagall lifted the Hat from her head and gently motioned her toward the Gryffindor table, that she actually moved.

If possible, she looked ten times sicker by the time she sat down by Lily.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked her, torn between worry for the pale girl and happiness that she had at least one friend in her house.

"My father is going to be furious," she answered dully, but pure terror shone in her eyes. "I'll be d-disowned. There's never been a Gryffindor in the family..." She threw a petrified look at the Slytherin table, where her brother was eyeing her with a stony expression. "He's going to be a nightmare after this."

"Cheer up," Black broke in, "All of my family's been in Slytherin, but you don't see me trembling like a Shiverschlump. We can make a new group, you and me. The Black Sheep Club – or no, even better – the Slytherin Is For Twits group. And we can make badges, and charge admission, and –"

Lily cut him off with a dirty look and told Persephone, "He may be a nightmare, but at least you don't have to be around your brother more than during school hours. And even then, he's got his own classes, you'll probably never see him." She paused. "Would your parents _really_ disown you for not getting into Slytherin?"

Persephone was quiet as 'Moore, Muireann' became a Hufflepuff, and then replied, "No, you're right. It would make them the topic of too much gossip if they disowned me." She caught Lily's gaze, and added quietly, so that only she could hear, "But they're still going to be livid."

"Let them – you don't have to see them until holidays, and by then you can think up something to say to them," Lily assured her friend.

Persephone nodded, not looking quite convinced.

Peter Pettigrew took even longer than Persephone to be sorted, also ending up in Gryffindor much to his surprise, and then it was James Potter's turn. Lily resolutely looked away as he swaggered up, and hoped against hope that he would end up in another house – only to have her hopes dashed as the word 'GRYFFINDOR' shook the great hall.

She pointedly ignored him as he came to sit across from Black and the two congratulated each other on their good fortune, her focus determinedly on the Sorting.

Severus was one of the last dozen students to be called, and the hat hesitated only a second before proclaiming him a Slytherin. He smirked smugly, and with a covert glance in her direction, he was off to the other side of the Hall and chose a seat facing her. She tried to send him an encouraging smile from across the room, to let him know that she was happy he had gotten into the house he wanted, but he wasn't looking at her. A group of Slytherins were cheering him, and Lily saw Lucius Malfoy pat Severus on the back as he sat down beside him, any trace of the distaste he had displayed in Flourish and Blotts gone for the moment.

The last student to be sorted was a black boy introduced as 'Zabini, Omar', and once he was safely seated at the Hufflepuff table, Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and removed the chair and Sorting Hat from the hall.

There was a hush, and up at the table, Professor Dumbledore had stood up.

"Before we begin indulging in the wonderful feast that has been prepared," he began in a resonant voice, "I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual boring start-of-year notices and a few more serious sentiments which need to be addressed.

"My first announcement is that, regrettably Professor Hubble's lumbago has caused him to give up his post as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor," Dumbledore told them. "Hogwarts has been fortunate enough to find a replacement in the guise of Geraint Grigglesmere, a noted author on the subject, for the duration of this year."

There was applause as a tall, dark haired young man sitting at the end of the teacher's table stood and bowed, before sitting again.

Dumbledore continued, "First Years – and certain older students as well – must be aware that the Forbidden Forest remains off-limits to anyone, unless in the presence of a Hogwarts teacher. This is especially important this year, as there is a certain amount of unrest among the centaurs in the forest at the moment." He paused, letting this sink in, and then went on. "As always, I must impress upon you that magic in the corridors is strictly prohibited and that for your own protection, wandering around outside of your common rooms – or even outside of the castle – is expressly forbidden."

He appeared to glance at the Gryffindor table when he said this, and Lily heard the redheaded twins snort.

"As is custom, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term for Second Year students and above – any First Year who feels particularly against this rule can take it up with Madam Hooch – I am told that she has years of experience dissuading young people with a rather extensive collection of photographs of flying injuries.

"On a final rule-related note, I must tell you that Hogwarts has recently acquired a rather rare and valuable Whomping Willow from a generous donor, and that anyone who does not want to have their bones crushed or eyes gouged out should steer clear of it."

He looked around, ostensibly trying to meet the eye of every student in the hall.

"Now, to close this wearying speech of mine, I would like to address the phenomenon which is occurring outside of our school walls as we speak," he stated, his tone more serious than before. "As many of you know – and as many of you I'm sure have been finding out – there is a wizard who is currently amassing supporters in his misguided quest to promote so-called blood-purity." He paused, and Lily's eyes flickered to the Slytherin table, where most of them were looking smug and feigning disinterest. "Whatever your personal views on the matter, I ask that you respect one another regardless of lineage. And for anyone that feels persecuted despite my entreaties...we all know the dangers of the Dark Arts that are being practiced outside the bounds of Hogwarts. But more importantly, you must know that you will remain safe within these walls."

After several seconds of allowing his words to set in, his blue eyes twinkled.

"And now, on a lighter note – enjoy the feast!"

At his words, the dishes that decked the tables of the great hall filled themselves with food, bringing an amazing aroma to the huge candle-lit hall. Lily's mouth dropped as she saw that almost every single dish that she loved was in front of her, including cheesy leaks and Yorkshire pudding. If she hadn't been fiercely proud of her mother's abilities to cook, she would have said that it was the most amazing spread that she had ever seen in her life, even if there were some oddities.

"Wonder why they've got mint humbugs," Lily mused. "Hey, Persephone, have you ever tried one of these?"

Persephone didn't answer. She was staring silently at her empty plate, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that they were turning blue.

"Persephone?" Lily whispered, poking her in worry.

"Huh?" the silver haired girl asked, snapping out of her trance. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening…"

"I wanted to know if…"

"Lupin," Professor McGonagall appeared in front of them and was looking down in a hawk-like fashion at the tawny haired boy. "The Headmaster would like a word."

Remus Lupin nodded, suddenly extremely tense, stood and walked after the woman. She began to explain something to him in a low mumble and her voice trailed off as they got further away.

Potter and Black were laughing uproariously at something the twins were talking about, while Peter chuckled nervously along with them. Persephone had gone back to staring blankly in front of her, and all of a sudden, Lily felt truly alone for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts.

She cast an anxious glance back toward the Slytherin table, and saw both to her dismay and delight that Severus was in the middle of a group of at least a dozen Slytherin's of various ages, chatting animatedly. She had never seen him in such high spirits with anyone else, which cheered her up – she had worried he wouldn't be able to make any friends if they were in different houses. But at the same time, she wished he was sitting with her, and that they could be chatting as happily as the others at her table.

'I'll see him in classes tomorrow,' she said to herself. 'Everything will be even better tomorrow.'

* * *

><p>Sorry for the delay...I had a fight with the Sorting Hat. See, it's a much better poet then I am and was quite angry that it had to spew the drivel I wrote for it. A poet I am not... :P<p>

Special thanks to **hushpuppy22** and **Grown Up Ron** for their indepth and constructive reviews, and a huge thank you to all of you who are reading and enjoying the fic, and I hope you're having as much fun reading it as I'm having writing it!

TBC


	8. Chapter Eight: The Sidhe's Warning

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER EIGHT – <em>The Sidhe's Warning<em>

Lily dreamed of forests and haunting voices that night, and when she was woken the next morning by the flourish of activity going on around her, she had the distinct feeling that she hadn't slept as much as she thought. She felt bruised, and her muscles and joints ached, as though she really had gone on a long walkabout.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and for a moment forgot where she was. And then she remembered – she was waking up at Hogwarts for her first ever day of learning magic. A wide grin took over her features as she threw back the heavy curtains of her bed and glanced around her surroundings, able appreciate them more now that she was awake.

The trek to Gryffindor tower the night before had gone by in a blur, her thoughts preoccupied with puzzling over ever fading thoughts on her Sorting and the mounting lethargy that had crept up on her like a thief in the night. She had barely had the energy to open her trunk, which had been brought up at some point during the feast, and grab her nightclothes before falling into one of the scarlet-bedecked four-poster beds and falling asleep.

Sunlight filtered in through the elaborate windows, alighting on the other four beds in the dorm, arranged in a circle along the pattern of the tower. She knew that there were three other dorms for First Year girls, but she had been lucky enough to fall in with a group of girls she had come to somewhat of an acquaintance with before going unconscious for the night.

There was Persephone, of course, in the bed directly to Lily's right, whose curtains were still drawn tightly, as though she was trying to avoid the first day as much as possible. The other three girls were awake though. An oval faced girl with brown eyes and fawn coloured hair who Lily recalled was named Mary Macdonald was making her bed, and Alice Fortescue – a round-faced, amber eyed girl with short black hair – was coming back from the loo, already dressed in her uniform, and carrying her nightclothes over one arm. The final girl in their room, Dorcas Meadowes, was brushing her long dark hair. Her inky blue eyes settled on Lily through the mirror by her bed.

"You'll want to get a move on," she told her. "I heard McGonagall's not one to give any leeway for new students. Gideon Prewett told me last night that she deducts points if she doesn't see you at breakfast on time. I'd hate us to start the year out on a deficit, wouldn't you?"

"That would be bad," Lily agreed, and then yawned. She noticed that no movement had come from Persephone's bed, and tossed her pillow at the curtains. There was a muffled squeak from within. "Up you get, Ephie, don't want to miss the first day, hey?"

There was a groan and Persephone stuck her head out. If possible, she looked about ten times worse than Lily felt and Lily had a strong suspicion that she had simply lain awake all night worrying. At the moment, though, the girl was peering at her in bleary confusion. "Ephie?"

"It's too early and your name's too long," Lily told her bluntly as she swung around, her feet recoiling from the coolness of the floor. "Come on, I'm hungry."

Lily grabbed her uniform – which had been placed beside her at some point during the night, now with a red and gold tie laid neatly upon it – and headed to the bathroom to wash up for the day. Upon looking into one of the mirrors, she balked at the intense dark circles under her eyes and dove into the first shower that became available.

Fifteen minutes later she looked at least somewhat more human, she decided, as she finished tying her tie and returned to her dorm to find her cloak. All the other girls had left, except for Persephone, who gone to wash up. Lily decided to wait, and so they wandered down to the great hall together.

Breakfast at Hogwarts was the most unusual experience.

There was not quite as much food as there had been the night before, but it was still a good deal more than Lily was used to eating at breakfast. There were also a lot less people crowded into the hall – some stumbling in, still yawning, and others already grouped off with friends as they left for their day's lessons – and these weren't as rigidly bound by the previous night's seating arrangements.

After scanning the hall to see if Severus was down yet, Lily led Persephone over to the emptier end of the Gryffindor table. Helping herself to some eggs, and glanced across the table at Remus Lupin, who was eying the porridge warily, looking even paler than he had the day before.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Just a little off colour," he said with a weak smile. "I made the mistake of trying the mint humbugs last night."

"Told you they were probably meant for decoration," a disgustingly cheerful Sirius Black said, plopping down beside Remus and pulling the whole bowl of porridge over to himself.

"Or as Dumbledore's idea of a joke," James Potter added, sitting down on Lupin's other side.

Lily pursed her lips at their presence, heatedly debating with herself to move, but noticed out of the corner of her eye that Persephone had actually started nibbling on some toast, and as it was the first bit of food she'd seen the poor girl consume since the Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties the afternoon before, she forced herself to sit still and reaching for a scone.

Peter Pettigrew waddled over and hesitantly sat next to the three boys, none of which seemed to have noticed him at all. Lily offered him a wan smile, which he returned.

"First Year Gryffindors!" Lily looked up to see Professor McGonagall striding forward with an armful of parchment. "Timetables! All of you must come get your timetables straight away – in an orderly fashion, Longbottom, without tripping over your robes if you please –"

When Lily was handed hers, she studied it carefully and then smiled.

"First class is Potions," she told Persephone, who was also looking at her schedule. "I'm so glad – I thought we'd be starting with something I'm terrible at – and look, we're with the Slytherins! We'll get to see Sev."

"_Oooooooo_, _we'll get to see that greasy Snivellus again_," Potter exclaimed in a falsetto that was supposed to be an imitation of her. "_Pinch me, Sirius, I might faint! – _Oi! I was joking, you prat!"

Black widened his eye innocently. "I honestly couldn't tell – you did such a convincing impression."

Peter was laughing nervously as well, but quieted quickly at the dark look from Lily.

"I'm looking forward to Herbology," Persephone murmured, for all intents and purposes unaware of the byplay going on around her. "Mother has almost every species of plant imaginable in her garden at home, and she sometimes lets me help her."

She went quiet again, and she looked so forlorn that Lily was able to put Potter and his cronies out of her mind for the moment.

Suddenly, hundreds of owls poured into the great hall in droves, filling their air with cheery hoots and the flutter of wings, circling the tables until they saw their owners. They dropped letters and packages, as well as newspapers, but there were some who simply flew in to greet their owners and fly off again.

"Mail's here," Potter shouted happily as a handsome, snowy white owl dropped a package into his lap.

Peter let out a muffled '_oomph_', as a package was clumsily dropped on his head by one of the Hogwarts owls. He grimaced and rubbed his dull hair, and when he noticed Lily watching him, he went slightly pink.

"Mum sent me more socks," he mumbled, as if it were an everyday thing, that an owl would drop socks on one's head. "She worries about me too much."

"Aw, is ickle Petie gonna cry for his mummy?" Potter teased, opening the wrapper on what looked like a package of homemade pastries. "Want a tissue, mate?"

Black snorted into his porridge, and Peter went even pinker.

"Shut it, you," Lily told him.

"Or what?" Potter leered. "Going to storm off in a huff again? Because that really showed us yesterday."

"Why do you have to be such a git?" she shot back.

Potter adopted a rather screwed up expression, his hands on his hips and adopted the same high falsetto again, "_Why d'you have to be such a git?"_

Her scathing insult was cut off by a loud gasp, and the five of them looked over at Persephone, who was shaking as a large, silver-grey owl pompously dropped a letter in front of her and flew off. She didn't reach for it for several seconds, and Lily had the chance to see the golden coloured wax seal with a coat of arms upon it.

"I take it that's from your family then?" she asked lightly.

"He told them," the blond girl whispered dully.

"How did he manage to do that so fast?" Lily asked. "The Ceremony was only last night; it's not like there are telephones or telegraphs here."

"He probably did it by Floo," Remus said thoughtfully. "My father says the Ministry has the Floo network connected to Hogwarts for emergency contact situations. I suppose he thought it was an emergency."

As Persephone cautiously picked up the letter, Lily glanced over her shoulder at the Slytherin table, where Lucius Malfoy was watching his sister with a look of undisguised, malicious glee.

"What've they got to say?" Black asked, looking vaguely sympathetic. Lily supposed it was because he knew what the letter contained. A large red owl had brought him a letter too, but as he hadn't bothered opening it, it simply lay on the table getting covered in breakfast food.

With trembling fingers Persephone opened the envelope, and then, if possible, went paler. After scanning the letter, she clenched it in her hand and managed a watery smile in Lily's direction. "I'll...I'll see you in class. I've just got to...go to the loo."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Lily asked, half-standing in case she needed to follow Persephone.

Potter interjected, "It can't be that bad, it's not like they sent you a Howler."

There was a brief moment when Persephone glanced up, fixed Potter with a rather sharp look and told him loftily, "Perhaps new money families use Howlers, but Malfoys do not. They are above such common gestures."

And with that she stalked off.

Potter opened his mouth to snap something, but then closed it again in a hurry, glowering after the girl. Black sniggered. "She does have a point, you know..."

"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

Lily was on her feet, ready to pursue Persephone, but found her path blocked by Severus. He had appeared so swiftly and silently that Lily jumped.

"Sev!" she cried. While she was happy to see him, she felt she needed to go after Persephone, and followed the other girl's departure from the hall with her eyes

"Good morning," Severus said quietly. He already had his books and things. He noticed where her attention was and then added, "What's wrong with her?"

"Ephie reckons her brother sent their parents news about her getting sorted into Gryffindor," Lily explained. "And judging by her having run off, their reactions weren't the most understanding. I was going to go after her – make sure she's alright –"

"She probably wants to be alone," he told her evenly.

"And how would you know?"

He considered, and then replied, "How would you feel? You hate it when I – er, when people come around after you've had a row with your sister – I would imagine she feels worse, them being her parents and all." He paused and then added, "Actually, it probably is worse because the whole school knows about it."

"That's horrible," was all Lily managed to say, slumping a little as she recognized the truth of his words.

Severus shrugged. "She'll get over it. It's not like they're going to disown her or curse her – the Ministry frowns on that sort of thing, I hear." He hefted his shabby bag. "Are you done breakfast? Class starts soon – we'll sit together, right?"

"Of course," Lily said keenly. "But give me a few seconds – I hadn't actually finished eating yet. Why don't you sit down and wait for me?"

Severus eyed the Gryffindor table as though it was somehow diseased, but at her inviting look, he nodded awkwardly and lowered himself over on the bench next to her.

Lily grinned and started to finish off her breakfast. "Have you eaten already, then?"

"Yes."

"How's your house? Congratulations, by the way, I know how much you wanted to get in."

"It great," Severus said, and sounded like he meant it. In a more subdued tone, he added, "It's too bad you got sent here." He grinned ruefully. "I suppose it's your temper which decided it. You're far too hasty, for all your brains."

Remembering her odd Sorting experience, she said heartily, "You have no idea."

She opened her mouth to tell him what had happened, but then in her mind heard the words of the four founders, whispering _'Geasa'_ over and over. Her mind suddenly stalled, all thought disappearing, and it wasn't until several seconds later, to curious prompts from Severus, that she shook herself out of her stupor.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah...sort of...I was going to say something, but I completely forgot."

"Better be sharper than that if you're going to make it through the first day," Severus smirked. "Double Potions today, right? Professor Slughorn's our Head of House – and from what I noticed yesterday, he's one to take first impressions seriously."

"I guess I should – "

"Hey, who said that greasy haired gimlets were suddenly allowed to sit at our table?" Potter demanded loudly, apparently just realizing who Lily was speaking to. He glared at Severus. "Just because your fellow slime balls have no time for you doesn't mean you can just sit with us respectable folk, Snivellus."

Peter once again laughed louder than needed, but this mostly went unnoticed by the other boys.

"Even if Evans there seems to have suffered some kind of head injury, we haven't," Black continued. Lupin looked between them all, opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, and then closed it again in resignation.

Severus curled his lip. "You could have fooled me."

Lily saw Potter reach for his wand, and even though she was sure he probably couldn't do more than send sparks at Severus, she didn't want to get in trouble the first day. She stood up quickly and nudged Severus out of the way.

"Come on, I've lost my appetite," she told him angrily, gathering her things. "I think maybe we should go find Persephone after all and get to class, yeah?"

She had to practically drag Severus away with her, his attention utterly focused on the Gryffindor boys in a calculating way which she knew was his trying to decide which would be the best hex or jinx to use on them. By the time they got out of the Great Hall, he told her stonily, "Get out of the way next time, I'm using a Stinging Jinx."

"You are not!"

"If that useless pile of dung thinks he's going to insult me for the next seven years, he's got another thing coming to him."

"And if you think I'm going to let you get in trouble for lowering yourself to his level, _you've_ got another thing coming."

Severus opened his mouth, looking mutinous, and then closed it. To anyone else it might have seemed an acceptance, but she knew Severus too well to take it as such. He would probably wait until she was not around and hope the Gryffindor boys provoked a fight.

Reading his mind by his expression, she added, "I'll just have to make sure I'm always around you then."

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Bollocks."

He smirked. "Language, Evans. What would your mother think?"

"She'd think I was my father's daughter – now shut it and let's go find Persephone."

They managed to do just that rather quickly.

Persephone was exiting the girls' loo on that floor when Lily went to investigate. The girl had a resolute look on her face that was probably a family trait, but the square of her shoulders and inclination of her pointed chin did nothing to mask the hurt the glinted in her eyes. She didn't talk about the letter, and Lily knew better than to ask about it, and so the three of them descended toward the dungeons, following Severus. who seemed to know exactly where he was going.

"Our common room's down here," he explained when Lily asked him about it.

The dungeons where they were to have their Potions lesson were colder than other parts of the castle, and Lily was struck by the rather sinister furnishings of glass jars and vials with various herbs and creatures – whole and in pieces – that lined every available surface save for the desks. Curious smells, both wonderful and pungent, filled the air.

She, Severus and Persephone chose seats in the front of the class and set about taking out their books and parchment. Slowly the classroom began to fill up, and Lily noticed that except for their table, the other students seemed to be divided right down the middle between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Potter and Black arrived, whispering loudly and pointing at them, and took seats in the back, where they waved over Lupin, and a beat later, a bemused looking Peter Pettigrew.

Peter, Lily noticed, looked as though he had no idea how he had gotten there but looked extremely pleased with himself all the same.

With a huff, she looked studiously down at her Potions book. It was not her business if Peter wanted to throw himself in with that lot just to be included. She would gladly have befriended him, given time, but if he wanted to hang around with spoiled selfish brats like Potter and Black, she washed her hands of him.

Within minutes, the class had filled up. One of the last girls to arrive was Marine Blundell, who after a rather uncomfortable pause at one of the back rows where four Slytherin girls were sitting, waltzed over to where Lily, Severus and Persephone sat and plopped down beside her. "Good morning, _mes amis_. I may sit wiz you, _non? _Ze uzzer girls in my 'ouse seem to 'ave taken a dislike to me for some reason – _"_

"...Maybe because they met you," Severus muttered crossly under his breath, and Lily jabbed him in the ribs.

" – but zey are all so terribly ugly any'ow I would not sit wiz zem even if zey begged," the blond girl continued, either not hearing Severus or ignoring him. She tossed her long blond pigtails. "Besides, we 'ad such a nice time on ze train yesterday – eet is nice to 'ave familiar faces in ze classroom, _non_?"

"Of course you can sit here," Lily said, somewhat relieved that the girl wasn't one of the students gawking in disbelief of a Slytherin and two Gryffindors sitting together. Severus made a long-suffering face at her, which she ignored.

The dungeon door opened and an enormously fat, balding older man waddled into the room. He was short, with prominent, gooseberry coloured eyes set in a vast forhead, and an enormous silver moustache that reminded Lily so much of a walrus that she had to force down a nervous giggle. The little hair that remained on his head was straw coloured, and he was dressed in a tailored waistcoat whose golden buttons seemed in danger of shooting off.

"Good morning class," he said cheerily, taking his place at the head of the room. He clapped his hands, and then rubbed them together in anticipation. "Quiet please – _now_." The whispers ebbed away to a silence which made the dungeons all the more eerie. "I am Professor Slughorn and as I'm sure you've guessed by now, I will be teaching Potions. I know this is your first class and you're all exceedingly anxious to get down to actually doing something constructive, but I'll be taking register first, so if you'll simmer down."

He read the names from a class list that he made appear out of thin air, stopping every now and then to add a comment. "Avery...Black – thought you were bound for Slytherin, boy! I've taught all your family – I remember your father was particularly adept with poisons – Mademoiselle Blundell, how is your aunt Zéphyrine? I've never quite forgotten her homemade bouillabaisse – " he continued down the list, barely listening to the answers from the students he called, and frequently interrupting them when his eyes lit up over a name he recognized, " – Miss Malfoy, another one I expected to be in my house. I hope you're better at Potions than your father was, he could never brew an antidote to save his life – Miss McKinnon, do you ever hear from your cousin Janus? Excellent Keeper, he was in his day. One of my better students –"

He finished the register and considered the class. And then he began to speak in an impressive, commanding tone.

"Potion-making is a subtle art – a rather exact science – that requires much more concentration and dedication than any other class we teach at Hogwarts," he explained. "Now, now, don't believe that just because there is little wand use in my class that you are in for a boring time of it –" he eyed Potter, who was yawning rather openly, "– I have planned a rather practical year for you. It is my belief that students learn better by doing – and even if Potion-making is not your talent, we'll find a way for you to scrape along somehow. I've never turned out a complete waste of a student yet –" he faltered a little, noticing that Pettigrew had dropped his wand and was now hunting for it on the floor, "– although some are obviously more..._adept_ when it comes to this subject. I look forward to discovering which of you has the gift of a born potioneer."

He beamed at them impressively. A few students, mostly Slytherins, smiled back. Lily recalled what Severus had said about him being the Head of Slytherin House.

"To work then!" he cried. "Now, ordinarily we would start on a Boil-Cure Potion as the first brew of the year, however as we only have a single period today, we'll start with something a little more basic – and which requires less time to make."

He proceeded to explain the properties of several common herbs and ingredients, all of the ones that were located in the student's potion cupboard, and then set them into pairs with the task of mixing up a Sneezing Solution, as he was sure that the cold season would soon be approaching and he – along with many others in the castle, of course! – would benefit from having extra stores.

Lily and Severus grinned at each other – they already had some experience making this particular potion. Along with the Pepperup Potion, it had been a must after they both nearly drowned earlier that year. By now, Lily was sure they could probably make it in their sleep. Lily started to work chopping the Sabadilla small enough to crush, and Severus weighed out the required amount of stinging nettle. As Slughorn swept around the classroom, occasionally knocking into the tables with his girth, sometimes he offered criticisms and encouragements to the students. Beside them, Marine and Persephone seemed to be doing alright – Marine appeared a competent potions maker, and under her lead Persephone faired well too.

Lily and Severus sniggered when they heard Slughorn's loud criticism of Potter and Black's work – "It seems you haven't inherited any of your parents talent in this subject, after all, Black – I'd start that over before it explodes." – while they continued to add the butterbur and skullcap to their potion.

"Well, there it is, just as good as ever," Lily said cheerfully as they finished it up. She paused before removing it from the cauldron. "Do you think we should add a sprig of peppermint like we do at home? I know it's not in the book's recipe, but I find it makes the potion burn less on the way down."

"It won't change the overall composition of potion," Severus agreed thoughtfully, and Lily went ahead and added the sprig to the still simmering potion. "I was also thinking we might add a dash of jewelweed root? I always noticed when we took it back home that the sneezing would stop, but then we'd still go around with our noses all puffed up and swollen."

Lily thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "That...could actually work. And the jewelweed would cancel out the bitterness of the skullcap, and add to its effect at the same time. It won't make us lose marks, will it?"

"Even if it does, I doubt it would be by much," Severus considered. "Besides, we already know how to make the potion properly. We're just making it _better_."

His logic sealed the decision, and they added the final touches. Besides them, Marine and Persephone were only just finishing with their own, textbook version of the potion, and although it gave off a sharper scent then Lily knew it should have, she was sure they had done a rather good job for a first attempt.

Professor Slughorn seemed to be of like mind. "Good effort, Miss Blundell and Miss Malfoy – a little less butterbur next time, hm?" He moved on Lily and Severus' potion, and after staring at it thoughtfully, a look of dubious amusement appeared on his face. He laughed unexpectedly. "This is excellent work! And do I detect a whiff of peppermint?" He chuckled, looking at the two of them as though seeing them for the first time. "Whose idea was that?"

Lily hesitated, and only answered at Severus' encouraging nod. "Mine, sir. And then Severus just had the idea to add jewelweed root –"

"The counteract the swelling of the sinuses," Slughorn mused, looking down at Snape calculatingly. "Unorthodox...but a rather good idea – do you mind –" he brought out a thin vial from his robes, "– if I take a sample of this? Purely to study the underlying interactions of the ingredients, of course? I'm obviously familiar with the additions, but I'd like to, er, test the amounts you used."

Lily flushed, and Severus nodded.

"Excellent," Slughorn repeated again, beaming at them as he filled the vial. "Five points each! Your parents must be fine potioneers themselves – and even if they're not, they're sure to be proud of your obvious talents. Be sure to relay that to them."

Severus murmured an embarrassed 'thank you', and Lily, before she could stop herself, replied, "My parents are Muggles, sir, they wouldn't quite understand, but thank you."

She knew immediately that she had said something shocking.

All of the Slytherins had gone very quiet, and even one or two Gryffindors looked tense. She heard Severus hiss something under his breath, and out of the corner of her eye noticed both Persephone and Marine's postures change, the former unconsciously moving closer to Lily, while the latter seemed to suddenly inch in the opposite direction.

Slughorn peered down at Lily in a mixture of disbelief and surprise. "You're Muggleborn? Really? Well!"

Lily had the sudden fear that this would cause him to suddenly treat her differently – he was, afterall, the Head of Slytherin, surely he would be one of those who felt less then friendly toward Muggleborns?

But instead, he let out a belting laugh.

"Merlin's beard! Well, that shows me to think I had seen it all! A true hand at potions and a Muggleborn to boot!" He beamed. "I will be watching your career quite closely, Miss Evans, if what I suspect about you is true. And Mr. Snape – are you Muggleborn as well? Do I have two prodigies in this class?"

Severus looked stricken, but stiffly ground out, "Half-blood, sir. Mother was a Prince."

"Prince!" Slughorn's grin widened, looking rather absurd beneath the bushiness of his moustache. "Not Eileen Prince?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why, I taught her almost twenty years ago! Captain of the Gobstone team here, you know – never as good at Potions as her mother, though – Septima Prince, now she was a talented witch – and her mother was a Viridian, if I recall – Severina – I suppose you get your name from her, then? They were directly descended from Vindictus Viridian, one of the greatest potioneers in history," Slughorn chatted, clearly excited. "Well, I think you're another one to watch, Mr. Snape – it's in your blood to be great in this class, I'm sure. Full marks to the both of you!"

And he bustled off to the next table, leaving both of them very red in the face.

Lily pretended not to notice the whispers that broke out sporadically for the rest of the class, trying very hard to pay attention to Slughorn outlining how the potion should have looked to everyone. When a booming bell sounded to signify the end of class, she deliberately took her time with her books, giving the majority of the students the time to leave before her. Avery and his friend from the train leered at them on their way out.

"Sorry," she muttered to Severus. "I didn't mean to get you put on the spot like that. I guess I should have stayed quiet."

But even as she said it, she felt a prick of resentment at the fact.

"It's fine," Severus said quietly, as Marine left them abruptly and joined the group of girls from Slytherin that she had tried to sit with at the beginning of the lesson. Lily gritted her teeth at the look the French girl through back at her as the other girls whispered to each other, glancing first at her and then at Severus. "It had to come out sometime, I suppose. And it really is my own fault. I should have told you from the beginning what things were like, but I'd hoped..."

He trailed off, and despite her annoyance at his less than truthful telling of how Muggleborns were treated, she felt a little bit bolstered.

"It wasn't as though you did in intentionally, right?" she encouraged, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You're forgiven."

Persephone noticed his pained look as they left the room, and considered him. "If you're worried about them mocking you about your bloodstatus, I wouldn't." She said frankly.

Severus made a noise of disbelief.

"No, really," she protested. "I know how they think, remember?"

Her face morphed into a spitting image of her brother's sneering smile, the precise amount of disdain and mocking pulled into it, and then spoke in a voice that was so eerily reminiscent of him that Lily had to glance surreptitiously around to see if he wasn't. "'_Pity about that Snape boy – of course, _I_ knew just by looking at him, but one does hope these things are just one's imagination. It just goes to show even grandest of lineages fall at times.'_"

Severus snorted, and Persephone stuck her chin out and took on a different, more haughty expression, and adopted a high, precise accent that mimicked Marine Blundell easily. "_'But still...Viridian? I was positive zat ze line 'ad died out? Bah! Eet eez nuzzing a few generations of pureblood marriage will not cure.'"_

Lily couldn't help the giggle that escaped, and even Severus had the barest twitch of a smile on his face, and encouraged, Persephone imitated the heavy, bobbing tread of their Potions professor, his huffing, smooth voice, "_'You're another one, to watch, Mr. Snape – it's in your blood to be great in this class! I'd bet you're meant to become a Master in the art of potion making, mark my words! And you'll probably be less likely to knock over your students work with your paunch, ho-ho!"_

By the time they had reached the Entrance Hall, Lily was laughing delightedly and Severus was trying rather hard not to.

Persephone grinned and resumed her usual way of walking.

"You never told me you could act," Lily chuckled. "I bet if you'd imitated him to his face, Slughorn wouldn't know who was the teacher, him or you!"

Persephone blushed at the praise and muttered something unintelligible, before considering Severus again. "The point is, they'll think about your blood for about five minutes and the rest of the time they'll be wanting to see what you're going to do. Viridian's like royalty to that lot – my brother has practically every edition of his book back home – I wouldn't be surprised if they start making you out to be some kind of half-blood prince up in Slytherin."

Severus' eyes seemed to light up at this.

"Which book?" Lily asked.

"_Curses and Counter-Curses_," Severus answered, and looked as though he wished he hadn't at Lily's expression of comprehension.

"That one you were looking at in Flourish and Blotts?" Lily enquired, and then frowned suspiciously. "You didn't actually buy it, did you?"

"Of course not," he said quickly – rather too quickly, Lily thought – and then added, "Would have been a waste of money."

"Why?"

"I'd warrant every Slytherin at Hogwarts has a copy," Persephone interjected. "And not just Slytherins, there are bound to be people in every house that have bought it, especially with how things are on the outside now. Everyone wants to know how to defend themselves."

"Or cause trouble," Lily muttered under her breath. "Honestly, it's like people are preparing for war or something." She missed the look Persephone and Severus exchanged as she glanced at her timetable."We've got Herbology with the Hufflepuffs next – what about you?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Severus said brightly. "Grigglesmere's supposed to be an expert in the field, from what I've heard. See you at lunch then?"

"Sure," Lily said, and then remembered the scene at breakfast and not wanting to have another scene with Potter and Black. "Er...shall we sit with your house?"

Severus looked immediately sober. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea." He wouldn't meet her eye, and then said quickly, "You're going to see Dearborn in Herbology – you could, er, ask him if we can sit with him for lunch?"

"It would be good to see him again," Persephone interjected, trying to lighten the situation. "We haven't had a chance to talk to him since the Sorting."

"Alright," Lily acquiesced slowly. "Guess we'll see you then."

And with a momentary glance of dismay, Severus took off in the opposite direction.

(-)

Not all of Lily's classes were a fruitful as Potions class had been, and as she learned over the rest of the week, there was a lot more to magic than simply learning the theory. The classes, she discovered, were not at all what she had expected them to be. They were hard, yes, although it was merely a matter of keeping focused, but they were also fun. She had never had so much fun at school before. In a way they were all very similar to the usual courses to be found in a school setting, but with a distinctly magical edge.

Herbology was taught by a squat little witch with short, wavy brown hair that she wore beneath a patched and battered hat, and seemed to be completely covered in dirt at all times – yet one of her wide smiles and you forgot it instantly. They learned all about the many strange herbs and fungi, as well as rare plants that helped wizardry and potions. It was almost like Muggle biology classes. Professor Sprout lectured on about various plants that were almost sentient, and then gave a demonstration of the dangers of Devil's Snare. Persephone earned another five points for Gryffindor for knowing how to discourage its constricting growth when one tendril wrapped around Caradoc Dearborn's head and refused to let go.

That midnight they had the first of their weekly Astronomy lessons, during which they had to study the skies and learn the names of different stars and moons, as wells as track the movements of far off planets. Lily had never heard of having lessons so late at night, and was so excited at being allowed to stay up later than her parents had ever let her that she barely heard any of Professor Nejem's lecture about the moons of Jupiter, and consequently drew a blank when he asked her a question pertaining to their orbit. The resulting look of disdain was such that she decided to study the entire textbook over the weekend in preparation for the next lesson.

Charms proved to be another class in which Lily excelled. It was taught by a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk, and who made a rather big deal over Lily's definition of Hover Charms. She tried not to feel too smug at the annoyed look on Delonney Hedgekirk's face, or to laugh too noticeably when the latter ended up accidently launching her wand at Professor Flitwick while they practiced wand movements – resulting in her getting her wand confiscated at the end of the lesson.

However, it was in Transfiguration where Lily truly met her waterloo. No matter how many times she had read the theory, and despite the careful answers she provided to all of Professor McGonagall's questions during class, it was Potter who was the first to turn a match into a needle by the end of class, and he was graced with what Lily might have called a smile if she hadn't already pegged Professor McGonagall as a woman completely without a sense of humour. He smirked at Lily, knowing she was watching jealously as he performed the spell in front of the class. In a fit a pique she waved her wand too vividly and accidentally set the match alight, singing her Transfiguration text. Professor McGonagall assigned her extra homework, but was still rather encouraging about the whole affair – unlike Potter, who laughed himself silly as he left the class.

But not even Potter could pay attention in History of Magic, and Lily soon discovered that it was easily the most boring class taught at Hogwarts. While unique because it was taught by a ghost, the inherent interest of the subject was shredded by the droning monotone of Professor Binns, who tended to forget that there were even students in the classroom as he covered the history of wizards and other beings. Only Persephone seemed to be able to focus on it, her face screwed up in concentration as she wrote her notes. After the first class, Lily leaned over and asked, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" the girl asked, looking confused.

"Follow everything he's saying," Lily clarified. "I swear, everyone else just falls asleep. I mean, I couldn't even pay attention to that bit about the separation of wizard kind and Muggles – do you think I could borrow your notes?"

Persephone turned slightly pink. "Er, if you can read them..." She held up her parchment, and Lily found that it was written in a completely different language. "I like to practice my Latin in History of Magic. Professor Binns' speech is slow enough that I can translate as I write." She looked sheepish. "I really have absolutely no idea what's going on in class."

But Lily was impressed, "You speak Latin?"

"Of course," Persephone shrugged. "Most magical incantations are in Latin, and so my parents thought it might making learning magic easier if I had the proper language base at a young age. Lucius knows Ancient Greek and Aramaic as well."

Somehow, this fact didn't surprise Lily.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of getting used to the constant oddity that was Hogwarts. It was almost as if the castle was sentient, the way objects that should have been stationary were always moving about and seemed filled with their own life-force. Lily wondered how much of this was because they had been enchanted, and how much was simply a result of there being so much magic in the air that it seeped into the mundane. The walls themselves were given to playing tricks on people, imitating doors and windows – and laughing loudly when an unknowing student tried to go through them or get a look outside of them – and doors were known to bang shut on people when they least expected it.

More of a shock was the event of a ghost deciding to glide through a door when you were trying to open it, as Lily found out one morning when a grim ghost covered in silver bloodstains erupted through the very door she was trying to pull open. She had screamed so comically that Persephone, who had been beside her, dissolved into fits of laughter and refused to let her forget about it all day. Unfortunately, their merrymaking attracted the attention of the school caretaker, a surly middle aged man by name of Argus Filch, who threatened them with cleaning the hundreds of tapestries in the school for disturbing the peace of the corridors.

Because every class took place in a different area of the school, it was a daily trek to navigate some of the hundred and forty-two staircases of the school – dodging vanishing steps and waiting patiently for staircases that decided to change directions when one was halfway up or down to decide to revert to their original path – and to orient oneself when the people in the pictures frequently ran off to visit one another, and even the suits of armour decided to get up for a stroll. Even worse than the constantly shifting scenery was Peeves, the Hogwarts poltergeist, a spectral little man with wicked eyes and a wide mouth who seemed to delight in any bit of mayhem which he could inspire – from tying people's shoes together in class, to dropping water balloons on you in your sleep..

Lily divided meal times between the Gryffindor table, where she and Persephone struck up more conversations with their dorm mates, and the tables of her other friends. By some unspoken agreement she never again suggested sitting at the Slytherin table, and so she and Persephone would take their meals at either the Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff tables, where it was more likely Severus might crop up. He didn't always sit with them, as Persephone's supposition about his reputation had been right. Lily was glad that Severus was making friends of his own, as back home in Mill Town she was sure that he had never had any friend other than her, but at the same time she wished his housemates were a little more pleasant to be around.

It had happened that Lily and Persephone, having gotten lost when an entire corridor decided to simply vanish of its own accord, found themselves face to face with Lucius Malfoy and two of his friends coming around the opposite corner.

"Well, what have we here?" he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "Going for a little stroll, are we?"

Persephone tensed beside her, carefully looking anywhere but at her brother, while Lily tried to keep calm and polit. "We're trying to get to class, but the corridor vanished –

"A likely story," Malfoy interrupted silkily. "You and the Half-breed are probably skiving off, right Rosier? Lestrange?"

The other boys sniggered in agreement, and Lily felt her cheeks warm at the obvious insult.

"As prefect, it's my responsibility to discourage such behaviour," he continued with a cruel smile. "So I think ten points from Gryffindor is in order."

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Persephone nudged her, white-lipped, and shook her head incrementally.

Malfoy noticed, and looked down his nose at his sister. "If the rumours I've been hearing are true, I suggest you wash your hands thoroughly, Persephone. Filth like that tends to take a while to come off."

Before Persephone could stop her, Lily hissed, "You're a prefect, you're not supposed to abuse your position! And keep your disgusting, narrow-minded drivel to yourself!"

"Twenty-five points," Lucius snapped, nostrils flaring. "Contradict me again and I'll make it double, Mudblood. And perhaps a detention as well."

Every fibre of her being wanted to call him out or go tell a professor, but Persephone was digging her nails into her arm and trying to drag her away. The still rational part of her mind told her it was for the best to follow her friend, regardless of what she really wanted to do.

They hurried off, the unpleasant laughter of Malfoy and his cronies echoing behind them.

"Don't show him that it bothers you," Persephone told her, her voice shaking with barely suppressed anger. "That was always my mistake. If he sees that he can get you angry or hurt you, he'll make it worse."

Still, even with Malfoy's occasionally bouts of bullying, Hogwarts was everything and more than what Lily had expected.

Except...

The wonders of the school all but disappeared by dark, when Lily's dreams were filled with nightmares of a burning crossroads and someone screaming the frantic, desperate screams of being tortured. Sometimes she dreamed that she was running from the screams, her fingers clasped in the fur of a large animal, and other times she felt as though she was right next to the victim, cowering lest the one inflicting the torment would find her at any second. More common was the vision of a small feline wandering through trees and undergrowth, its black eyes fixed determinedly on her. They were always the last things she saw before waking up, the shrieks still ringing in her ears.

On the Saturday after the first nightmare began, Lily wandered down to the Hospital Wing to ask Madam Cuthbert, the matron, if she might have anything for nightmares, but shied away from actually going inside when Remus Lupin, looking particularly drawn and sickly, wandered by and asked her what she was doing there.

"I had to run an errand for Slughorn," she lied, all the while unsure of why she was hesitant to say anything about her dreams, and went back to the Gryffindor common room with Lupin when he offered. By the time she climbed through the portrait hole, she had convinced herself that there was nothing to them.

Sunday, Lily spent exploring the Hogwarts grounds with Persephone and Severus, sitting out by the great lake below the castle and enjoying the subtle changing of the leaves in the forest. She still found herself inexplicably drawn to something within the woods, but she had decided to ignore it, hoping it would eventually go away. She had heard the Prewett twins telling awful stories about the creatures that lived there, and had no intention of _ever_ setting foot beyond the school boundaries.

It wasn't until their second week that the First Year Gryffindors had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, something which Frank Longbottom had been talking about as loudly as possible since being Sorted into Gryffindor. The class was taught by Professor Grigglesmere, a tall, good-looking wizard who looked rather like the vampires Lily had seen in Muggle films, but whose eyes crackled with humour. He was quite a bit younger than any of the other teachers Lily had seen at Hogwarts, and still carried himself almost like a student.

During their first class, he had seated himself cross-legged across his desk and twirled his wand absently as he explained the course and what they would be learning that year. He finished his introduction by explaining the Wand-Lighting Spell.

"First and foremost, if you're going to be combating the Dark Arts, you should bring everything out into the light," he told them conversationally, and held up his wand. "_Lumos_."

A bright light appeared at the tip of his wand.

"More than half of the creatures – even the human ones – that would ever challenge you count on darkness to do it," he told them. "So don't give them that advantage. The number one rule of combating Dark forces is to do so on your own terms. Even with something as small as a light at the end of your wand, it changes the odds incrementally."

He set them to work trying out the spell for themselves, and Lily was surprised, yet happy to be one of the few who managed to perform the Wand-Lighting Spell after the first several attempts.

"Good job, Miss Evans," Grigglesmere told her as he passed by, sounding rather grudging for some reason. "Work with Miss Fortescue for a bit, will you? She doesn't seem to have gotten it." Alice actually looked close to poking her own eye out the way she was waving her wand about, and so Lily started to cross the room, but stopped when Grigglesmere spoke again. "Oh, and Miss Evans?"

"Yes Professor?"

"It's against regulation for pets to tag along for classes," he informed her lazily. "Some animals, such as toads and rats, are a benefit to spell work – specifically Potions – but this class is about practical work. I wouldn't want an accident."

"Er, alright then," Lily said, utterly confused.

Grigglesmere continued, "I won't take off points because it's your first class, but if you would return your cat to your dorm before you partner with Miss Fortescue..."

"My...cat?" Lily echoed, looking around. "I haven't got a cat –"

Her words died in her throat.

A large, orange tabby – a very familiar, large orange tabby – was winding about the legs of her chair and rubbing itself against Lily's feet.

"I suppose you call that a walrus then," Grigglesmere said conversationally. "My mistake. Well, regardless of its species, be sure to keep it in your dorm from now on. Run along."

There was nothing else that Lily could say, besides, "...Yes, sir."

Grigglesmere went on to check on the other students, and Lily stared back down at the orange eyes beast.

"What's he talking about?" Persephone asked lightly as she admired the light from her own wand. "You don't have a ca – where on earth did he come from?"

"She," Lily corrected automatically, and the cat purred happily in response. "And I have absolutely no idea."

"Maybe she's someone else's?" Persephone suggested, "A lot of the older girls have cats as pets, you know – but most of them are black. I've never seen one that particular shade of orange before. It's almost like a pumpkin..."

"I don't...think so," Lily said, unable to explain to her friend why she was sure that the feline that was currently nuzzling her was definitely not someone else's pet. "But...well, I guess I'd better do as Professor Grigglesmere said, yeah?"

Persephone seemed confused by Lily's vagueness, but Lily pretended not to notice, too preoccupied with keeping her face carefully devoid of emotion. She hesitated only a moment, regarding the cat doubtfully, as though sure that it wasn't real, and then picked the creature up into her arms.

It was warm, its purrs making her entire body wobble, and she shivered at the ominous feeling the beast gave her. With a murmured 'I'll be back', she strode from the room.

As she walked, her own heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribcage. She was glad that the professor had told her to go during classes and not once they let out, because the corridors were deserted. Glancing to her left and right to make sure she wasn't being followed, and that there were no ghosts about to jump out at her, she ducked into an empty bathroom and put the cat down in front of her.

"Alright, you, _what_'s going on?" she hissed, ignoring the foolish feeling of talking to a cat as though it was human. She looked around again, making sure there were no ghosts or poltergeists in the room with her and lowered her voice even more, "Is this about the...the Torc? Is someone going to tell me what it is? I haven't been able to sleep proper in days because of this!"

The cat's tail twitched, and it narrowed its eyes at her. The orange orbs considered her dispassionately, its pupils dilating wider and wider until the cat's eyes were completely black.

A wave of nausea passed over Lily, and she staggered back a little bit, holding out her hand against one of the sink's to steady herself. She felt the familiar choking sensation around her neck and throat. When she looked up, she felt the blood drain out of her face. Something shone from beneath her cloak and uniform. With trembling fingers she loosened her shirt buttons and tie, opening them up wider until she could see what lay beneath.

A twisting chord of silver knotwork encircled her neck around the collarbone like a tattoo, the ends that stopped at the hollow of her throat thicker than the rest of it. When she laid her hand against the thing, she felt nothing but her skin, and realized she could only see it in the mirror, that the only reason she could see it was because the creature was allowing her to.

She trembled as a familiar voice spoke to her as though from far away.

'_Cat-Sidhe will guide you...can only keep you hidden from his gaze for so long...if he finds you all we be lost...'_

"Yeah, I'd gathered that part for myself," Lily managed weakly, trying to make the world stop spinning. The image of the silver circlet around her neck had disappeared, leaving only her frightened reflection. "But why does this..._he_ want me – whoever _he_ is? What _is _the Torc?"

Images flashed in her mind, flickering against her eyelids. Shadows swirled in her thoughts, and she imagined she saw Petunia standing before her, eyes curiously blank as she spoke in a odd, hissing growl that was not her own voice: '_Covenant.'_

Her sister morphed into Persephone, who spoke in the same voice. '_Hope.'_

The familiar guise of Salazar Slytherin was before her now. _'Power.'_

'_Destiny_,' an image of James Potter told her, grinning cheekily despite the voice that was not his, and then his images swirled and came to rest on the form of Severus Snape. He raised his blank eyes to her and whispered,

'_Death.'_

The images disappeared as soon as they had come, leaving only the cat which was watching her, its eyes back to normal. Lily had broken into a cold sweat, and her collar throbbed. Her voice was raspy when she asked, "Whose death?"

The cat regarded her for a long moment, and then turned its back on her, apparently finished giving its cryptic message. It began to paw experimentally at the shadows of light on the bathroom cobblestones.

"Whose death!" Lily demanded, her voice raising frantically. The animal continued to ignore her, and she couldn't hold back the snarl, "_Cat-Sidhe, answer me!"_

The name had come to her lips unbidden, one she had never spoken in waking hours because something had kept her from voicing it. She now knew why she never had.

The change was instantaneous. A giant black creature of claw and bone faced her, completely black save for a white spot on its breast. While she could see this in front of her, she knew in her heart that if anyone were to walk in they would still only see the odd orange cat – but she could feel the hotness of the breath as it snarled at her, could see in its eyes the carnage it had wrought with its claws and teeth, destruction that had scattered armies and knights – she smelled the blood in the air and heard the screams in her head.

"I'm sorry!" Lily cried, cowering against the images, shutting her eyes to make the image of the terrible monster disappear. "Please...I didn't mean...I'm just tired of not getting any answers from anyone!"

The beast paused, and Lily felt the tension in the air release as its true form returned to the guise of the orange cat. It seemed to have decided that Lily had learned her place and was now flexing its claws thoughtfully.

Lily considered the cat, and then tentatively asked once more, "Whose death?"

Cat-Sidhe captured her gaze again, and a final image appeared before her, of a terrible and beautiful man with golden hair and endless, haunting eyes, who smiled so sinisterly that she felt the breath leave her even as he spoke in the voice she had come to realize was Cat-Sidhe's.

'_Everyone.' _

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	9. Chapter Nine: Broomsticks and Blackmail

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER NINE – <em>Broomsticks and Blackmail<em>

Cat-Sidhe's cryptic warnings haunted Lily's waking hours over the next few days, making her distracted and twitchy, as though at any moment she expected the nightmarish man to appear in the middle of her classes. The dreams became worse, the screaming louder, and she imagined that could make out words, a cold voice asking questions.

She must have made a rather frightening figure in her fit of anxiety that even the sickly looking Remus Lupin took her aside one day to ask if she was alright and suggest a trip back to the hospital wing might be in order.

Although she managed to assure him there was nothing wrong, her friends were harder to escape.

During lunch on Thursday the week after that first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Severus arrived breathlessly at the Ravenclaw table – and then froze when he caught sight of Lily, who was trying desperately to listen to what Delonney Hedgekirk was telling her about Switching Spells and failing miserably, her head sagging unenthusiastically in front of her.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, sitting down cautiously beside her, his black eyes worried.

"I'm fine," Lily said dismissively.

He wasn't convinced. "Lily, I haven't seen you look this bad since that time you nearly drowned. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Lily said abruptly, looking up determinedly to meet his gaze. She remembered the vision Cat-Sidhe had given her of her friend, and of the chilling way he had spoken the word 'death', and looked down again. "I'm fine. Just...not sleeping well, is all."

"That's the biggest understatement I've ever heard," Persephone said, glancing up from her copy of _Historic Magic_ that she had propped open between a soup tureen and bowl of lettuce.

It seemed that not only had the lessons taken Persephone's mind off of her predicament of being sorted into Gryffindor, but they had allowed her to loosen up a little. Despite still stuttering and turning red when called on by teachers or being spoken to by people she didn't know, she had warmed considerably to Lily and even seemed at ease in Severus' presence. Lily privately thought that she was confident because she didn't need to worry about Lucius and his friends harassing her as much as she was used to, but she didn't say this to Persephone. Not to say that he didn't if their paths ever crossed between classes, but these instances were so few and far between that Lily was usually able to distract her.

Apparently her recent insomnia was just such a distraction.

"Every night, tossing and turning," Persephone continued, "and then yesterday you were sleepwalking." She sent Lily a pointed stare, then looked back to Severus. "She would have tumbled down the stairs from the girls' dorms if she hadn't trod on that stray of hers. The yowls woke me and everyone else in our dorm up."

"Sleepwalking?" Severus repeated, and Lily could see that behind his carefully composed expression, he was worried. "Since when have you – I mean, you never mentioned you had a sleepwalking problem before."

"I never did – I don't," Lily replied. "It's probably just homesickness. I sent off a letter home the other day and haven't heard back yet. I just wish there were telephones here that worked without being interfered with by magic."

"Even if there were, the long distance charges would be murder," Severus reminded her edgily, "And don't make light, I've – everyone's been noticing you look a little drawn. It's much too early in the year to look like that."

"I'm sure it's just all the excitement," Lily deflected unconvincingly. "Or nerves. You saw the notice posted up, didn't you? About Flying lessons?"

At the mention of this, Severus turned a lighter shade of pale, and then bravely offered, "Well, at least that's another class we've got together."

"It's hardly a class," Persephone remarked softly. "It's just for the afternoon. I expect they'll teach us the basics and then leave us to worry out the rest."

"I'd rather wait until I can Apparate," Severus said loftily, trying to hide from the others what Lily already knew to be his crippling fear of heights, "Something about floating thousands of feet up with only a Hover-Charm and some safety-spells to keep me from falling? Not the most dignified way to die if they give out, I think."

"I've wanted to learn to fly since getting my letter – I just wish the lessons were in private," Lily sighed, "I've got nothing against making mistakes and not getting it right away – but I'd rather not make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Potter."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," Persephone told her reasonably, at the same time that Severus made a face and demanded, "Who cares what he thinks? He's an ignorant berk who thinks he's better than anyone. I bet he can't even fly himself."

"And stop changing the subject," Persephone added, frowning at Lily. "We still want to know what's wrong – and you never did give me a convincing explanation about that cat of yours."

"Hold on – is that the cat you were telling me about? The one that showed up in Grigglesmere's lesson?"

"Yes," Lily said with exasperation, "but I don't see what it has to do with anything."

"Well, let's see," Severus pretended to think, "given that an informed person doesn't believe in coincidences, the appearance of a strange cat around the same time that you stop being able to sleep...you do see where we're going with this, then?"

"Alright, if you know so much – when have you ever heard of an animal causing behaviour problems in a human being?" Lily shot back.

"Well, there are werewolves," Delonney Hedgekirk, tired of being ignored, interrupted the conversation, "You get bit by one, you're basically infected for life. Then you've got Billywigs, which induce giddiness and levitation –"

"Do I look like I'm levitating?"

"No, quite the opposite – in fact, I think you could do with some levitation, you look rather downcast," Delonney replied, not noticing Lily's sarcasm, and then continued on with relish, " – ooh, perhaps it could be a Pogrebin? They're known for following people around and filling them with despair and futility!"

"They also like to turn into rocks when you catch them at it," Severus deadpanned, and looked at Lily in mock seriousness. "Seen any really big rocks around lately? Or, have you noticed that this cat of yours is rather adept at Transfiguring itself?"

Lily couldn't help the snort of laughter, both at Severus's tone and because, in an ironic way, it was right on the mark. She _had_ seen the mysterious cat transfigure itself, but a rock had been the last thing the snarling beast had reminded her of...

Delonney, in the meantime, looked affronted.

"Excuse me for trying to offer helpful solutions," she snapped. "Let's see if I give you any more help when you find out you've been targeted by a Nundu – "

" – the defensive spells on Hogwarts wouldn't let one in," Severus pointed out, but Delonney continued,

" – or driven insane by a Fwooper – "

" – it's a cat, not a species of bird –"

" – or lured away by an Erlking – "

"They're native to Germany – and they usually target young, defenceless children," Severus finished lazily. "Honestly, aren't you supposed to be a Ravenclaw? 'Wit beyond measure,' and all that?"

Delonney glared at him and refused to talk to any of them for the remainder of the lunch period, and Lily privately felt that perhaps it might be best to sit with the Hufflepuffs for a few days until she cooled off. Delonney wasn't a bad sort, only a bit of an –

"Insufferable know-it-all," Severus groused as they left the hall together. "Being smart is one thing – you can be smart without having the need to constantly show off. I _loathe_ people like that."

"She's just passionate," Persephone said quietly.

"There's a difference between passion and exhibitionism," Severus retorted darkly. He rounded on Lily. "And don't think this means I've forgotten – you're class performance is going to drop if you keep up...whatever it is that's going on. Even if you say it's nothing, you've still got to sleep – and not walk while you're doing it, either."

"You should go see Madam Cuthbert and ask her to give you a Sleeping Draught," Persephone suggested. "I'm sure once you get enough rest, the sleep-walking will stop."

"That's a good idea," Severus agreed, somewhat to surprise of both girls, who were used to him disagreeing with Persephone with regard to most subjects, sometimes just to be contrary. It appeared, though, that when it came to Lily, they were of united mind.

"I'll look into it," Lily promised, willing to say anything to get her friends to stop asking her about her health.

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to anyone – if she could find a way to do it that didn't make her out to be losing her mind, she might have – but any time she opened her mouth to start the conversation, it was as though her thoughts swam, her tongue sealed itself to the roof of her mouth and her jaw locked into place. The knowing looks she would get from Cat-Sidhe whenever the feline beast was around made her sure that the cat was doing it somehow, and this in itself made her wary of talking to her friends. If hearing voices in your head wasn't a sure sign of insanity, even in the wizarding world, she doubted that being under the thrall of a cat would be taken any better.

Severus, for his part, seemed satisfied, and nodded awkwardly to Persephone, as though acknowledging the result of their teamwork, and then said to Lily, "See you in Flying lessons, then?"

"Of course, save us a deathstick – er, broomstick," she said, taking a modicum of revenge at his expense.

He glared, and then replied slickly, "We'll chat about your new pet then, too."

So far Lily had been able to convince the other girls in her dorm that Cat-Sidhe was simply a stray which had taken to her, and although Persephone obviously had her own opinions as to that, she didn't push the matter to badly. For her part, Cat-Sidhe acted exactly as a cat should – ignoring anyone who showed any sign of interest in her and getting in the way at the most inconvenient times, all the while watching Lily with a smug, all-knowing gaze that made her want to scream. It was only the memory Cat-Sidhe's true for which kept her from doing so, and so she contented herself with simply glaring at the cat when no one was looking and complaining loudly when she awoke in the mornings to the cat curled up next to her head.

Lily stuck out her tongue at Severus's retreating back and swept off toward the library. Professor McGonagall had informed them that she would be absence that day, and so they were spending their free period in the study hall by the library researching Object-To-Animal Transfiguration for an upcoming quiz she had been hinting at.

The study-hall was almost completely packed when they got there, being watched over by Madam Hypatos, the librarian. Lily and Persephone passed a group of seventh years, complaining that their Care of Magical Creatures Class had been put on indefinite hiatus because of problems with the centaurs, and wandered over to one of the emptier tables at the far end of the hall.

Upon reaching it, Lily felt a sudden reluctance, as it was occupied by four girls she recognized from her Potions class, all of them Slytherin, although Marine Blundell was the only one of the four that she had actually spoken to. She was also the first to notice their approach, and she furtively elbowed the girl next to her – Monica Urquhart, Lily recalled vaguely – who began whispering to the other two girls, Marlene McKinnon and Hypatia Van Mortimer. By the time the four pairs of eyes were trained on them, Lily wished they had gone to a different table, but her pride kept her from taking off in the opposite direction.

She forced a smile on her face. "Can we join you? It's a bit of a squeeze in here today, hey?"

Marine glanced at the other girls and seemed on the verge of saying something, when Hypatia interrupted.

"We're actually saving places for some people," she pronounced carefully, and it took Lily a moment to realize that she was addressing Persephone, not answering Lily. "We might have room for one – but I'm sure your _friend_ will have no trouble finding space elsewhere. That table near the window, perhaps?"

Lily knew what she would see before she even glanced at the aforementioned table, but she still felt the sting of anger and hurt. Mary Macdonald was sitting at the only other table that had space, along with Cian MacDougal, Bertha Winsor and Xao Li – all Muggleborns. Monica giggled and Marlene smiled vaguely. To her credit, Marine remained utterly expressionless, but neither did she say anything.

It was Persephone who responded, pursing her lips and holding her head in the air, before marching off to the table with the Muggleborns, dragging Lily along with her.

"We wouldn't want to sit with that lot anyhow," Persephone told her decidedly. "Hypatia's been a resentful little cow ever since we were little. Her mother always hated that Father chose a half-Veela for the next Lady Malfoy, instead of a Blishwick." She smiled at Lily with a rather smug look. "I always tell her that if it had been a choice between a Blishwick and a bullfrog, I'd be half amphibian."

Lily laughed as they got their books out, earning a glare from Madam Hypatos, and Mary introduced them to her friends – the boys both seemed to have the usual reaction upon meeting Persephone, but quickly acted as though they hadn't noticed. Within the hour, Lily was almost able to forget the incident.

(-)

The Flying lessons with Slytherin took place in the courtyard directly outside of the castle at three-thirty later that afternoon, where the students waited for their instructor, chattering together and looking at the laid out brooms with a collective feeling of nerves and excitement.

"Can't wait for next year," Potter was telling his friends animatedly. "I'm going to try out for the House Quidditch team. Dad always reckoned I'd be a choice Chaser – and Mum was a Seeker in her day, you know, so it's in the blood..."

"Like a midget in glasses like you could get chosen?" Black snorted. "In your dreams!" there was a pause, before, "So, you'd go out for Chaser then?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"I like flying for flying's sake, not to get all sweaty and dishevelled," Black drawled, "Leave the sport to the lesser peons, I say. It's more fun to watch."

"Mental," Potter shook his head, but punched his friend good-naturedly on the shoulder.

Lily exchanged unimpressed looks with Severus. "I really don't see the appeal."

"What, afraid, Evans?" Potter had heard her, and was regarding her with a nasty look on his face.

"Not even," Lily retorted, shaking her head haughtily. "I'd just rather be studying _actual_ magic, not prancing around trying to break my neck."

"But go on, Potter, give it a go," Severus added, "I'm sure we'd all have a good laugh."

"Sod off, Snivellus."

"Class, good morning," interrupted a voice, causing all of the students to cease their talking immediately and react to the greeting. A woman with greying brown hair and big yellow eyes, like that of a hawk, came over carrying a broom behind her. She wore windswept robes and heavy gloves that Lily recognized to be made of dragon hide.

"Good morning Madam Hooch," they all chorused. The woman stopped, and then looked around, looking at each face in turn as though to keep tabs on them all. Nodding, as though sufficiently impressed with the young ones that she would be training, she cleared her throat.

"All right, all of you, find a broom and stand in position," she ordered, not wasting any time on explanations or cautions the way any of their other teachers began class; they all scurried to find a broom. "Stretch your arms out over your brooms, call 'up', and then mount them."

To Lily's dismay, it turned out that Potter could fly. His was one of the first brooms to jump into hand, as was Black's and even Persephone's. Pettigrew was having a time of it – he finally called out a bit too loudly and commanding, and his broom shot up, hitting him square in the face. Black crowed with laughter that Lily couldn't decide was good-natured or teasing, but Pettigrew looked determinedly triumphant as he firmly clasped the now hovering broom in his pudgy fingers, his nose bleeding very slightly.

Lily's merely rolled over, and Severus's didn't even move.

It took several more tries before they finally managed to convince the temperamental broomsticks to fly into their hands, and when everyone finally had his or her broom in hand, Madam Hooch called for quiet.

"When I blow my whistle, you will all kick off hard from the ground. Ready?"

There was the sound of many people affirming this, and then the whistle. Some people rose into the air right away, their cloaks swishing in the light breeze, but the majority stayed on the ground, hopping in small spurts as though trying to give their brooms enough lift to get up into the air. Lily was relieved that this time, at least, she was among the first to hover, the tips of her shoes barely touching the ground. She was just convincing herself to go a little higher, when there was a pull at her hair that nearly unseated her, and she whirled around to see Potter smirking, arms crossed.

"Wow," she said sarcastically, wobbling only a little bit on her broomstick. "You can fly without using your hands. Ever so spiffing."

"Potter, stop showing off!" Hooch called up from where she was helping the stragglers, who slowly got into the air with a little help from the professor. Severus was still there, his knuckles the sharp white of bone and his jaw set in determination Lily expected was more to do with wanting not to throw up than to stay on his mount.

"Yes, ma'am," Potter saluted back, although the full, devil-may care grin he flashed Lily's way made her sure that he was only agreeing in word and not in sentiment.

"These old besoms are rather lacklustre," Black complained. "You'd think they'd have a standard issue for school. A Nimbus One Thousand wouldn't be too much to ask, would it? Even a Shooting Star, but these...?"

"What can you expect from school brooms?" Potter replied. "Never up to snuff."

Once everyone was up in the air, Madam Hooch set them in pairs to practice accelerating and decelerating, as well as emergency dismounts. She flew in between all the pairs, often shouting at them to keep within six feet of the ground, and corrected the other students' grips or positioning of the legs.

By the end of the lesson, Lily's palms were blistered and her thighs ached from pressing into the broomstick handle, but she felt cheerful that this was at least another magical accomplishment she could add to her repertoire. Severus remained white as a sheet, and decided he was going to skip dinner that night to perfect his essay on Boil-Cure Potion – Lily was sure that the thought of food was slightly unsettling to him at the moment – and so she and Persephone ate with the other Gryffindor girls. She was rather glad of this turn of events because she didn't relish staggering through an explanation of Cat-Sidhe's origins with Severus.

"Aren't you going to go see Madam Cuthbert?" Persephone asked her as they returned to the Gryffindor common room that night, her stern look reminding Lily of her mother.

"Er, no," she replied, and before her friend could bring up anything to make her feel too guilty, she added, "No, listen – I'm already exhausted, and then after flying today I can barely move. I don't think I'll be making any midnight journeys tonight."

"Fine," Persephone said, not looking convinced. "But if I get woken up by that infernal cat again because you've decided to slide down the banisters or take a dip in the lake while you're dead to the world, don't expect me to save you again..."

Lily offered a smug grin. "Oh come on, you know you'd come after me in an instant."

"Careful, you're beginning to sound as cocky as Potter," Persephone said loftily, and had to duck as Lily threw her balled up cloak at her.

However, it seemed – at least at first – that Lily was right. She didn't leave her bed for several nights in a row, and her colour and energy returned to her, which convinced her and her friends that the one instance of sleep walking was simply a fluke.

But then, almost a week after her assurance that she was alright, Lily awoke to find herself halfway across their dorm, waking only because of an owl hooting outside of her window. She had hurried back to bed, hoping that Persephone hadn't noticed, and spent the rest of the night trying to keep herself from falling asleep.

Once again she found herself falling behind in her lessons, nodding off during Transfiguration and zoning out during time with her friends. The night-time wandering began again, but it was several instances before she accepted the truth that she needed to do something about it. The first time she ended up at the bottom of the staircase to the girl's dormitories and the second time mere feet away from the portrait entrance to the tower. But it was the third which finally caught up to her – Persephone, suspicious of Lily's return to ill-health, had set a pitcher of cold water at the top of the stairs, and when Lily accidentally kicked it over while making her way down, Persephone had marched over to wake her and then informed her that they would visit Madam Cuthbert the very next morning.

"There's really no excuse for avoiding the problem so long," Madam Cuthbert, a portly woman with steel gray curls, chided as she bustled around the hospital wing, looking for various ominous looking bottles. "Sleep-walking is such an easy ailment to fix – I wish the rest of them came in with such easy problems. I had Xenophilius Lovegood in here just the other day insisting he had been attacked by a rampaging Heliopath – whatever that is. Luckily his friends had enough sense to confess that he'd botched a simple Flame Freezing Charm." She considered Lily again. "Really, you should stay the night in the hospital wing, you do look rather –"

"I'm fine!" Lily protested, a secret horror of anyone finding out the next day why she was in the infirmary. "That's all I need is for people to see me here after barely a month at school – they'll say it's a typically Muggleborn characteristic, that I'm weak!"

"Of course they won't, dear," Madam Cuthbert soothed, and although Persephone tried to echo this sentiment, Lily could see it plainly on her friend's face that she was right on the mark. When Lily still continued to argue, Madam Cuthbert huffed, and sulkily passed over a small vial of some purple potion. "You will drink that directly before bed – no later than ten o'clock, mind you, as it will keep you asleep for eight hours – and then I want to see you tomorrow before breakfast to hear if it worked. If not, I _will_ have you in here under observation for the rest of the week, understand?"

The unyielding look in the matron's eyes made Lily nod and take the vial, although she privately resolved to lie even if the potion didn't work. She told Persephone so as they left, hurrying toward the Great Hall for breakfast.

"But that's completely counter-productive!" she protested, and Lily cut her off,

"This whole thing is counter-productive – obviously if I'm still sleep-walking after one of Madam Cuthbert's draughts, there's more to it than just that."

"All the more reason why you should be staying there tonight," Persephone told her crossly. "You need to get a handle on this before it gets too out of control – image you decide to get up and end up tripping down the stairs and breaking your neck?"

"I can do that just as easily awake as asleep."

"You know what I mean!"

"Yeah, but I also think...that it's something else," Lily ended lamely, the familiar reticence coming upon her as she edged closer to speaking the truth to Persephone. "Just...trust me on that, alright? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Fine," Persephone sniffed, but Lily could tell that she was less than pleased with the result of their argument. "But if it doesn't work, I'm telling Severus you're sleep-walking again. He's going to be on my side, and you know it – or else you would have told him about this morning's visit."

Which was an uncomfortably true statement.

That night, Lily made sure that Persephone saw her taking the Sleeping Draught and settled into bed, somewhat wary of drinking something so foreign, but intent on putting attend to her nightly wanderings as soon as possible. She felt herself becoming drowsy at once, and felt around for the covers of her bed.

Everything around her became hazy and the dim torches that lit the dormitory winked in and out of her sight through the hangings of her bed; her body felt like it was sinking deeper and deeper into the warm flannel sheets of her bed, and she was vaguely aware of Cat-Sidhe kneading the pillow near her head as she was carried off to sleep by the potion and her own exhaustion.

In the span of what Lily considered to be the blink of an eye, she was waking up. The arms of sleep beckoned at her to stay firmly wrapped in their grasp, but something was nagging at her that told her it was time to awaken. As awareness flittered back to her in short spurts, she became aware of the rather cold draft around her and the far-off, rustling sound of whispers. It was the feeling of cold cobblestones on her bare feet that finally shook her from her stupor.

Lily was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, utterly alone.

The darkness of the hall told her that it was still night, which meant that the Sleeping Draught had not worked as it should have.

There was such a stark difference from the hall in the daytime that Lily's panic was momentarily preoccupied with examining the gigantic open space she had found herself in the middle of. The tall walls seemed to tower higher in the darkness, roaming endlessly upward to reach the enchanted ceiling, which like the sky outside, was clear black and scattered with stars. The candles which usually lit the entire room were extinguished, floating dormant along the walls, waiting to be of use again and at the front of the hall, the staff table loomed, the Head's chair an ominous shadow presiding above the rest.

She had begun to shiver now, not from the cold, but from the growing horror as the reality of the situation crept up on her. Not only had the Sleeping Draught not worked, it had probably aided her odd affliction. She had no idea how she had managed to creep down to the main hall – it was a miracle that she hadn't been caught by Filch or his hated cat, Mrs. Norris on her way in – but one thing was certain in her mind: she had to return to Gryffindor Tower before she was found out of bed and lost any house points.

'But how?' she thought miserably, casting her gaze around. In the darkness and her worry, everything seemed to have turned around. It took several minutes to reorient herself and locate the doorway to the entrance hall, but before she could start in that direction she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

Turning back slowly, she noticed that the shadows had dissipated a little from the Head's chair. An odd, pearly white glow had begun to flicker there, and in the dimness she imagined that it was taking on a vaguely humanoid shape.

"H-hello?" she whispered, wondering if it was simply a ghost trying to materialize, before she remembered that ghosts were constantly transparent, and this flicker looked like it was something solid that was winking in and out of sight.

Fear gripped her and she wondered if the nightmarish man seeking the Torc had found her after all, but as she watched with bated breath as the figure appeared standing before the throne-like chair, she relaxed incrementally. The figure was familiar, shabbily dressed and undernourished, but something about the clarity of its eyes that drew her attention. There was a look of intense focus on his face, and the light that seemed to exude from his body illuminated a circle around him.

"Temeraire?" she whispered, the name coming to her without conscious thought, reaching for a memory that was less than complete.

He was staring right at her, and as he made a beckoning motion, she realized with a chill that his eyes the blank emptiness of a corpse's.

She took a step forward, tentative, filled with a sudden assurance that everything would be explained if she could reach him –

A shock, like an electric current ran through her body.

A terrible, echoing voice spoke as though in her head, _'I will find the Torc regardless, old man. Make it easier on yourself. Tell me what I wish to know, and I will allow you to move on.'_

Lily recoiled, her vision blurring with the sight of flames and she imagined that acrid smoke choked her, and there was a brief, flash of pain that she somehow knew was only a passing second of what the nightmare man was doing to his unfortunate victim. Ahead of her, the apparition flickered.

_'Don't trust anything outside of the Sacred Circle!'_ Temeraire's voice was thin, ragged from screaming, and she knew then that he was the one who was being tortured, the voice she was hearing in her sleep. _'It's a trap!'_

At the words, there was a snarl from everywhere and nowhere, and the apparition trembled, before exploding outward and inside out, disappearing seconds later.

Lily's thoughts cleared, and for a long moment she simply stood in the dark hall, strangely out of breath, her heart beating in fear.

She nearly screamed when there was a loud crash from across the room, but instead, ducked under the nearest table.

Panicked, Lily peeked out from beneath the bench with bated breath to see what had caused the disturbance, her eyes flitting back toward the Head's chair to see if the vision would return.

It did not.

A small creature with a skeletal body and dust-coloured fur had stumbled into the great hall, a rather large pot fixed over its head. It rolled about, sounds of hissing and spitting echoing within it as it rolled around, trying to push the object off of it. Lily would have felt sincerely remorseful about this, if she hadn't recognized the creature, with a measure of breathless dismay, as Filch's watchful cat Mrs. Norris.

'If she sees me I'm done for,' Lily thought desperately, wondering if she should make a break for the corridor out of the great hall.

Two things happened at that moment – the first, she heard a rather gleeful sniggering from next to the benches, causing her to look around in fear that there was someone else in the hall with her, and the second, Mrs. Norris freed herself from the pot that had been stuck on her head, and yowled pitifully, her bulging yellow, lamp-like eyes sweeping the hall beadily.

A voice hissed a curse next to her, while another continued to laugh while the beast mewled again, a trilling sound that echoed to the very simulation of the starry sky.

"Psst! Evans!"

She froze, caught between keeping an eye on the meddlesome cat, which was already sniffing around on the floor for some evidence of her and trying to identify the owner of the rather familiar voice.

The next thing she knew, the rather distorted face and shoulder of Potter appeared out of the shadows.

"Get over here!" he snapped in a harsh whisper, and she was so stunned to see him, looking as if half of his body was missing, that she could only gape wordlessly at him.

From behind him, Black's face peeked out, oddly misshapen as though covered by some kind of material. "Evans, unless you want to cower there until Filch shows up and docks about a million points from Gryffindor, I'd get under here."

There was no time to argue, for Mrs. Norris had begun to investigate underneath the tables, and in the background they could hear a loud panting and the sound of footsteps coming from beyond the great hall. Lily launched herself out from under the bench, scraping her knees and tearing her nightdress as she went, and threw herself toward Potter, who caught her and pulled her upright. Black swept something light and silky around them. It had a fluid, silvery-grey interior and felt odd, like fluid woven into fabric. Once underneath, she saw that Remus Lupin was also concealed beneath the odd material, smiling lightly at her in the dimness.

She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but Potter clamped his hand over her lips just in time to watch Mrs. Norris prowl by. Although they were right next to her, Lily was shocked when the cat continued past them with nothing but a suspicious look and very expletive hiss – as though she knew they were there but couldn't do anything about it.

Seconds later, Filch appeared in the great hall, puffing and wheezing, a lantern in his hand which he swung around wildly. "Where are they, my sweet? Where are those good for nothing hoodlums? I'll find them...yes, I will..."

In the light of the torch, the caretaker seemed older and more sinister than during daylight hours, which Lily thought was something in and of itself. She shrugged Potter's hand off of her, glowering, but remained silent.

Potter made several small gestures with his hand, indicating that they were to move slowly and not allow any part of them to show from beneath what Lily surmised to be a cloak of invisibility. She nodded that she understood, and with a sharp look at Black, who even in the dim light of Filch's lantern appeared to be trying to keep from laughing out loud, they set off. Slowly, making sure that none of their feet accidentally stepped from beneath the cloak, they ambled out of the great hall and back into the entranceway.

Lily felt out of breath, like a marathon runner, and it was incredibly warm under the cloak after the shocking coolness of the castle at night, especially with the silent breathing of the boys behind her. They moved carefully up the marble staircase to the third floor, before they finally relaxed and pulled off the cloak.

"Hi, Lily," Lupin said sheepishly.

"Well, that was something I never thought I'd see," Potter smirked, his voice teasing but still quieter than usual lest he wake the portraits that still slumbered all around them. "Little Miss Perfect sneaking out at night? The world must be coming to an end!"

"What were you doing, Evans? Going to see your boyfriend?" Black sniggered. "And here I was sure that Snivellus would wet his pants in the dark..."

"Never mind what I was doing there," Lily hissed, ignoring their slight of Severus and hoping to deflect their questions, "What were _you_ doing down there? You're not supposed to be wandering around the castle at night –" at Potter's and Black's shared glance of amusement, she added, "– you know what I mean! This – " she fingered the curious cloak meaningfully, " – proves that you _planned_ to sneak around after hours!"

"And we still would be if we hadn't had to save your arse," Potter told her infuriatingly.

"We could have just let Filch find you, you know," Black drawled. "It would have been awful funny – Little Miss Perfect getting detention for breaking the rules she loves _so_ much..."

A sound echoed up the stairwell, and the three students fell silent. Potter clutched his cloak momentarily tighter, but when the noise didn't come again, he relaxed, and considered Lily before he continued his friend's thought. "We were going to, actually, but then Remus had to be all sensible."

The sickly looking boy shrugged, and replied quietly, "You know I'm right, James. If she got caught it _would_ make it a lot harder to get out at night. They might set a prefect on watch or have some of the portraits start spying."

"That, and she'd probably get loads of points taken off," Black added.

"And right now we're in the lead – we lose any points, Slytherin's up," Potter sighed, pretending to be rather conflicted. "Couldn't have that, now could we?"

"What are you talking about?" Lily demanded airily. "You lot lose points every day."

"Yes, but in the single digits," Potter replied, indicating that they should start up the stairs. "I've heard McGonagall gets mean when it comes to students out of bed."

"The Prewetts once lost over a hundred points for getting caught around the corner from Gryffindor tower one night," Black continued as they reached a landing between staircases. "You got all the way to the Great Hall – without an Invisibility Cloak, might I add –" he dropped his voice lower and asked, conspiratorially, "How did you do that, by the way? Get all the way down and not get caught?"

"I-I..."Lily faltered, having no idea what to say, both because she didn't trust either of the two boys and because she didn't want to explain about the oddities that were happening all around her of late. She tried again to change the subject, looking down at the cloak. "Invisibility Cloak? Aren't these extremely rare? Where did you get it?"

"Family heirloom," Potter replied dismissively. "Don't change the subject – what were you doing down there? It looked like you had been Confounded or Imperiused."

Apparently he had not seen the spectre that she had, either because he couldn't or because he and his friends hadn't arrived in the great hall until after Mrs. Norris.

"Why should I tell you?" Lily shot back, working to keep the desperation out of her voice as she tried to think up a convincing story. "It's my business – it's not like you tell me yours." She paused, and added darkly, "Not that I'd even want to know."

"We were going to charm Mrs. Norris' fur to change colours," Potter told her unabashedly, and only Lupin had the decency to look embarrassed. "Filch gave us detention for trekking mud outside his office last week. Spot of payback for the old blighter. 'Course now we'll have to think of something else, the timing's all off."

Lily stared, not having expected the forthrightness, and then said flatly, "That's completely absurd."

"But funny," Black said brightly. "He's a Squib – Fabian told me so – so it's not like he could change her back himself. He'd have to go ask a professor to do it, which can't be easy for a proud man like him."

Lily felt a momentary flitter of sympathy for Filch. "That's really horrid. You should be ashamed of yourselves! He can't help being a Squib, any more than you can help being purebloods or I can help being Muggleborn!"

"He _can_ help being a smarmy git, though," Potter replied archly. "He chooses to be like that – I've got cousins who are Squibs, and they're decent folk. Not like him." He narrowed his eyes at her from behind his glasses. "Now are you going to answer me, or do I have to cast a Bat-Bogey hex on you? 'Cause if anything will bring Filch running in this direction, it's the sound of someone running around, trying to escape their own –"

"You just try it, Potter, and you'll regret it!" Lily hissed furiously.

But Potter simply smirked at her. "Really? Where's your wand, Evans? Cleverly hidden in your nightdress?"

Lily felt the blood rush to her face as she realized that she was indeed wandless, while Potter was twirling his innocently in front of her. She had never realized how weak she felt without it, having carried it around with her wherever she went for the past couple of weeks. But she fought down the sudden worry and clenched her fists meaningfully at the two boys.

"You try anything and I'll beat the stuffing out of you," she told him confidently. "You've just got to miss me once and I bet I can knock you out cold. You're not the first bully I've gotten into a scrap with, and I doubt you'll be the last!" Granted, Mindy Peters had been easy to knock out because she was rather clumsy, but Potter didn't know that, and so Lily tried to maintain an illusion of certainty.

Black guffawed. "You know, I'd pay Galleons to see that."

"I think she might actually be serious," Lupin murmured warily.

Potter looked as though he dearly wanted to test to see if she was, but at that exact moment a distraction in the form of Peeves occurred, as the mischievous spirit came floating down from several floors up, rotating and spewing spit balls at the sleeping portraits.

"This should be a kick," Potter said in vague resignation at the appearance of the poltergeist, and Lily glared at him furiously.

"I viciously dislike you."

Peeves caught sight of them and gave a trill of delight, lowering his pea-shooter incrementally.

"Wandering around, are we, Ickle Firsties?" he cackled, his eyes sparkling wickedly. "Should be careful of the things that go bump in the night, you should." His grin widened. "Professors would want to be informed of this, I think."

"Shut up, Peeves," Lupin whispered urgently. "You'll attract attention."

"Dangerous times," Peeves continued, revelling in the situation. "It's really for your own safety."

"Yes, definitely for our own safety," Black nodded quickly. "We're actually head right back. Right now."

"If you let us go, Peeves, I'll buy you a carton of Dungbombs," Potter said quickly. "Just think how much cleaning Filch'll have to do then, yeah?"

The poltergeist looked as though he was actually considering it. Potter and Black exchanged knowing glances, apparently sure that the idea was going to work, and Lily shifted her weight nervously, not wanting to encourage such an exchange, but much less interested in getting caught out of bed when it was a miracle they hadn't already.

Peeves had other ideas.

"Too long to wait for fun, when fun can be had right now," he giggled nefariously. "Let's see how fast you run, Ickle Firsties!"

Peeves took a huge breath, opened his mouth to yell, and Lily reacted before she even knew she had a plan. She grabbed Potter's wand and shoved it in Peeves direction, yelling, "_Petrificus Totalus!"_

The poltergeist's jaws jammed together to keep him from speaking, as his arms snapped to his sides, and his legs sprang together. Peeves' whole body was rigid as he swayed in the air momentarily, before falling downward like a grotesque missile, toward the ground floor.

"Run!" she hissed, not knowing how long the full Body-Bind would last on a poltergeist. It wouldn't have worked on a ghost, she was sure, but as Peeves was corporeal at least some of the time...

They sped up the stairs, taking them two at a time – Lupin nearly got caught on a vanishing step – and practically fell into the seventh floor corridor. By the time they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady at the end of the hall, all four of them were out of breath, and the three boys were wheezing with laughter.

"We're not supposed to know that one until the end of the year," Lupin breathed admiringly. "Glad you knew it, though."

"You sock a brilliant Body-Binding Curse, Evans," Black gasped. "Guess it goes with that temper of yours – are you sure you don't want to give up your morals and join our gang?"

Even Potter was looking at her with grudging admiration. Lily, however, could find nothing funny about the situation.

"Of course you're going to laugh – he'll be making the rest of my Hogwarts career miserable once that wears off," she complained as they climbed through the portrait hole – ("I hope you don't expect me to open up whenever you feel like taking a midnight jaunt," the disgruntled portrait of the Fat Lady snapped, looking ridiculous in a fluffy pink dressing gown and curlers.) – and into the dark common room. "Sure, and you're please with yourselves! We could all have been given detention for a month – or worse, suspended!"

"I think that was an excellent way to break in my dad's old cloak," Potter was saying to his friends, ignoring Lily. "I'm quite keen to do that again – and thanks to Evans we know it fits over four people if we go slowly."

"Peter's going to be in a right strop when he finds out we went without him," Black said with glee.

"That's what he gets for going back to sleep before I could show him the cloak," Potter said dismissively.

"You're not going out again?" Lily cried, torn between being scandalized and worried that they were going to get caught. "We're not supposed to be out after curfew!"

"And who's going to tell anyone? You?" Potter demanded, and at Lily's obstinate look, which she knew conveyed that that was exactly what she meant to do, he rounded on her, "You tell anyone about this cloak and I'll start such a convincing rumour about you being under the Imperious Curse that the Ministry will be carting you off for questioning within a fortnight!"

Lily felt the colour drain from her face as Lupin hissed a protest of, "James!", and raised her chin defiantly.

"I'm not afraid of you, Potter," she snapped. "It'll be a cold day in hell when I am."

"Who would believe you anyway? It's your word against ours," Potter continued mercilessly. "Sure, we get in trouble, but no one doubts where our loyalties lie! You hang out with that greasy Slytherin git – I've heard the older Gryffindors saying it's not natural, that – I wouldn't be surprised if the Hat made a mistake and you were supposed to end up there!"

"Come on, James, lay off," Lupin objected, "You're acting like she's a confirmed Dark wizard just for being friends with someone you don't like."

"Hanging with Slytherins and wandering around in the Great Hall at midnight like you've been Confounded," Potter went on, "reeks of Dark magic. Maybe we should turn you in, just to be on the safe side."

"Don't try to pretend you're so noble!" Lily snarled. "You're just a self-righteous, attention-seeking toe-rag who wants any bit of notice he can get, whether it's good or bad! And if making up a rumour about me is the best you can do, then I guess the rest of the year is going to be nice and tame!"

She turned on her heel and started back to toward the girls' dormitories, and then turned around again to snap, "I'm not going to tell anyone about your stupid cloak because _I_ choose not to, not because you're threatening me."

She didn't add that if she did say anything to a professor about the cloak, they would ask exactly how she knew about it, which would inadvertently reveal her own recent transgressions.

Another thought came to her, and she added with finality, "For someone who says he hates Slytherins as much as you do, you're acting remarkably like one!"

And with that she stalked up the stairs.

* * *

><p>Apologies for the wait, I've just started university again and so updates will be a little more spread out. I really, really want to finish this first instalment though, so I will do my best. The goal is to have this instalment done by November, because not only do I start my first work-experience then and probably won't have time to write again for two weeks, but it's also NaNoWiMo and I'm hoping to actually finish this year – last year I only got to 35 000 before midterms hit. Anyhow, just thought I'd let you guys know what to expect for the future,<p>

Again, thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read, and a shout out to you responsible readers who are bothering to review. It's really appreciated,

TBC


	10. Chapter Ten: An Averse Agreement

**_Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc_**  
>by ErtheChilde<p>

**_"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."_**

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER TEN – <em>An Averse Agreement<em>

"You were awake!" Persephone protested mournfully for what seemed to be the hundredth time as she and Lily descended from the girls' dormitories the next morning. "I heard you get up – your eyes were open and everything, and I asked if you were alright, and you said you were just going to the loo – _you spoke to me_!"

"I don't remember anything until waking up in the Great Hall," Lily answered truthfully. "So I guess Madam Cuthbert's Sleeping Draught worked to a certain point..."

'Too well in other ways,' she thought with a shiver. 'I won't be making myself that vulnerable ever again."

After returning to her bed, she had been unable to go back to sleep, too paranoid that she would end up outside the common room, and so when she was sure that Potter, Black and Lupin were no longer hanging about the common room, she had curled up in one of the squishy arm chairs in front of the fireplace, Cat-Sidhe watching her warily from the chair next to her. Lily's many entreaties to the stubborn animal to give her at least a hint as to what was happening to her were met with reproachful glances and the beast finally turning its back on her, tail straight up in dismissal; in the end she had decided to write the entire experience in the journal Severus had given her, including as much detail as possible in case she needed to come back and re-examine the incident.

When Persephone had come bounding down the stairs shortly after dawn that morning, very much in a state of panic, Lily had just finished putting the last details in print. She had quickly calmed the pale girl and then filled Persephone in on that night's adventures, carefully leaving out the apparition she had seen as well as the means by which Potter had snuck her out of the Great Hall.

Remembering Madam Cuthbert's admonition to check in with her, they stopped at the hospital wing, where under Persephone's disapproving gaze, Lily proceeded to tell an utterly outrageous lie about the effectiveness of the Sleeping Draught, and then assure the matron that she would indeed come see her the minute she felt the least bit unwell.

"That was a blatant lie, Lily," Persephone whispered angrily as turned the corner from the hospital wing. "Why didn't you tell her that it didn't work?"

"Because I don't think – oh no!" her argument trailed off into a hiss of dismay, and she pulled Persephone back around the corner.

"What –?" Persephone's question was cut off as Lily clapped her hand over her mouth, peaking around the bend carefully.

Peeves was up and about again, it seemed, determinedly tripping any student who walked through the hallway. She quickly jumped back as he looked up from laughing over stumbling Fifth Year.

"Come on, let's go the other way."

"But this is the shortest way to the Great Hall!"

"Yes, but I really don't want to be caught by Peeves after what happened last night," Lily grumbled, nudging Persephone in the opposite direction.

"Maybe you should just go back to the hospital wing," Persephone suggested innocently, and Lily rolled her eyes.

"This really isn't something spending time in the hospital wing is going to cure. I'll have to figure it out myself."

"Because, of course, a full grown and well-trained Healer will obviously have absolutely no ideas as to what it could be."

Lily glowered, and Persephone adopted a placating expression as she dropped that particular subject. Unfortunately, she took up another equally tense angle.

"But you will be telling Severus, right?"

The question was pointed, and voiced in such a tone that Lily knew her friend was intending to make good on her threat of spilling the proverbial beans if Lily decided to back out.

"Of course I'm going to tell him," Lily retorted, "I would have told him yesterday except he wasn't at supper, was he?"

Her friend looked slightly mollified. However, a moment later, her expression changed to a dubious one. "Do you think – well, do you think Potter might have had a point? It does sound a lot like the effects of an Imperius Curse."

Lily frowned at the idea that someone might be controlling her, and while the signs all seemed to point in that general direction, she knew that it was more likely something to do with the mysterious Torc that she kept encountering in her dreams. She massaged her neck reflexively, trying to feel the elusive sensation of metal around her collar, but nothing made itself known to her.

"Wouldn't I know if I was under that?" she wondered. "I'm not sure, I think I remember reading about that curse in one of Severus' mum's books, but it was a long time ago and I really wasn't that interested in it..."

"You would know," Persephone told her simply. "When you're under the Imperius curse, you go into a very calm trance, and you lose control over yourself. It's like all responsibility and anxiety is gone, and you're just...floating."

Lily stared at her friend in alarm. "Persephone...?"

Persephone seemed not to hear her, pushing on in her questioning, "Is that what it's like when you're sleep walking?"

"No," Lily said with difficulty, trying to fight off the curiosity at how Persephone knew the precise conditions of the Imperius Curse. "It's like going to sleep and waking up. There's nothing in the middle. Like when you go to sleep and don't dream."

She didn't mention that when she did sleep, it was a sleep fraught with night terrors.

"Hm," Persephone pondered for a second and then sighed, "Well, you could simply have been bewitched by someone then. Do you think that's possible?"

"No," Lily said thoughtfully, rapidly thinking up reasons that were both plausible and completely unrelated to what she really believed was behind the odd trances that she took after hours. "I'm always with you or Severus, aren't I? You both would have noticed if I suddenly came over odd or if someone bewitched me, I think. Besides, from what I've read, that strong a curse or spell would have to be cast either by one of the older students or a teacher, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe one did?" Persephone suggested, lowering her voice conspiratorially as they entered the great hall. "It would be right in line with the atmosphere around here, wouldn't it? I mean, you _are_ Muggleborn."

"Yeah, but I haven't heard anyone else having peculiar trances like me," Lily replied. "Unless Mary's been acting odd too?"

"No more than usual," Persephone said reasonably, hiding a giggle. Their fellow Gryffindor was known to chat on for hours about Muggle bands and diligently wrote fan mail to her favourite singers, sometimes including locks of her own hair in the envelopes.

"So there you go," Lily said, studiously avoiding the whispers and gestures from Potter, who was chatting vociferously with his mates, and led Persephone to the Hufflepuff table, where Severus was already seated, a painful look of patience on his face as Caradoc chatted with him – or rather at him – about something or other. He perked up when he saw her, and raised his hand slightly in a wave, and then winced, as though in pain and returned to his seat.

'That's strange,' Lily thought with a frown.

It wasn't until she made it within feet of him that she noticed the reason for his wince. "Severus! What happened to your face!"

She hadn't noticed in the distance, as his hair covered his features most of the time, but as he had shifted to greet her, she had noticed the ugly purple bruise that greatly resembled a pattern of knuckles against Severus' temple and jaw-bone.

She reached out to examine it, but his cheeks flushed with dull colour and he jerked away. "It's nothing..."

"Nuffink my arse," Caradoc interrupted cheerfully. "'E's been fight, 'e 'as. Took on those two lumps, Crabbe and Goyle at the end o' Charms yesterday. 'E was out cold for some bit after that – I 'ad to carry 'im to 'ospital meself – but they was the worse off in th'end. What was it you hit 'em wif?"

"Ear Shrivelling Curse," Severus murmured quietly, and at Lily's outraged look, he added, "But I didn't do it proper, or anything – Goyle's ears just kind of turned parchment-thin and all and Crabbe ducked out of the way before I could get one off on him. Madam Cuthbert will have them fixed up in no time, I'm sure."

"Since when do you resort to fisticuffs?" Lily wanted to know, her hands on her hips.

"Since the curse missed Crabbe and he knocked my wand out of the way."

"That's not what I meant and you know it! Why were you fighting to begin with?"

"Hey, Snape!"

Two Slytherins First Years had passed by, and it took her a moment to place the names to their faces – despite having had Potions with the Slytherins for almost a month now, the only ones she was on a first name basis with were Severus and, occasionally, Marine Blundell – but eventually she remembered Oberon Avery and Milton Mulciber.

"Nice work on Goyle," Mulciber said with an unpleasant smile. "I heard Lucius Malfoy say Ear-Shrivelling Curses are N.E.W.T level at least."

"Think you could show us how you did that some time?" Avery added. His eyes fell on Lily, but other than a slight tightening of his lips, he didn't say anything to her.

Severus appeared surprised, and she couldn't help notice him straighten up at their praise.

"I'll consider it," he told them stiffly, "if I have the time. Unlike you two, I actually need to do my homework – my parents won't simply buy me better marks."

Mulciber looked like he was going to retort, but Avery snorted with what might have been laughter. "Touché."

His eyes lingered on Lily again, making her flush because they were filled with obvious contempt, and then he nodded gruffly at Severus, "See you later then."

When the two of them had disappeared, Lily turned to Severus, "You're not actually going to teach them how to do that curse, are you?"

"Probably not," he replied lazily. "They'd just find an excuse to use it on me."

"Why do you know how to use it in the first place?"

Severus coloured and murmured something unintelligible, and then cleared his throat. "Breakfast? The kippers are particularly good today."

"I'm sure they are," Lily said acidly, "You haven't answered my question. And why were you fighting?"

"It was nothing," Severus intoned stubbornly, and when Caradoc opened his mouth again, a sudden pained expression appeared on his face that made Lily sure that Severus had just trod on the other boy's foot.

"You're going to have to tell me at some point," she told him earnestly.

"Later – much later," he told her, and she was sure she heard him mutter under his breath, "Like never."

She glared, intending for him to know she wasn't going to forget in a hurry, but he had busied himself with a large plate of kippers and eggs – it never ceased to amaze her how much Severus was able to eat; but then, she doubted he had ever been in the position to eat whatever or as much as he wanted back home – and she and Persephone started as well. Lily was half annoyed to find that the kippers really were better than usual, and they chatted with Caradoc and his housemates until well after the owl post had arrived.

When Delonney Hedgekirk appeared in all her usual pomp, Severus abruptly stood up, his books in hand and said to Lily, "Best be off then, right? Slughorn's actually letting us make Boil-Cure Potions today – I can't wait, even if it is one we know already. I was getting tired of writing notes about ingredient properties and possible uses. And I was also thinking about the effect that using fangs from different species of snake might have on the potency..."

He trailed of, looking at her expectantly.

Lily opened her mouth to chide him for being rude, and quickly changed her mind. It occurred to her just then that she was just as hesitant to tell Severus what had happened to her as he was to keep whatever it was he was hiding a secret. And considering what she had to say...it was probably best to give Severus some leeway and keep him in a good mood. Persephone gave her a knowing and meaningful look, and she glared lightly in response.

"I suppose," she said quietly, replying to Severus' inquiry. "We never really considered species as a factor before, I guess."

But Severus had noticed her pause and the look Persephone was giving her. He glanced between Lily and Persephone with a good deal of suspicion. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you in Potions," Lily assured, noticing that Delonney, Caradoc and some of the other Hufflepuffs were watching their interaction with interest. She remembered what had happened when Delonney had tried to include herself in their discussion the last time and didn't relish the idea of losing the hospitality of the Hufflepuffs during meal times if Severus decided to have a go at one of them.

Persephone caught her expression, and blurted out suddenly, "Delonney, is it true your sister Laverne is engaged to Amarillo Lestoat?"

Delonney's eyes widened in horror, and she hissed, "Where on earth did you hear such a horrible lie?"

"I read it in _Witch Weekly_," Persephone said, pretending not to notice the disgusted look on Marine's face or the sudden interest on the part of everyone else at the table. "Of course, it was in the rumours section, but –"

"Then it was just that," the Ravenclaw snapped, ruffled. "My sister would _never_ marry a...a..."

"American?" one of the Hufflepuffs suggested helpfully.

"A vampire," Delonney replied haughtily, but this did nothing to dispel the sudden outbreak of excited talking as the Hufflepuffs rallied to ask her if her sister really knew Amarillo Lestoat, which brought on an entirely different round of questions and excited chatter.

Lily sent Persephone a grateful look and ushered Severus away from Delonney and the Hufflepuffs, all of whom were hanging onto her every word as she tried to put right the rumour Persephone had brought up. She was directing most of her annoyed diatribe at the pale girl, who nodded with a look of complete sympathy and apology, as though she really hadn't known that such a thing would upset the mousy-haired girl. Lily made a mental note to thank her friend profusely the next time she saw her.

She was suddenly extremely grateful that she had made friends with Persephone. In between worrying about the oddities that had begun to take up residence in her life and fighting through the ever increasing piles of school work, Lily as relieved to know that she had someone she could share that with. Severus was, of course, her best friend, but he was a boy, which meant there were some things he just didn't understand to begin with. He also lacked the requisite social know-how to calm a tense situation. For all of Persephone's shyness and aversion to attention, she had grown up in one of the elite pureblood families of Britain and as such had learned a certain amount of secrecy and manipulation from her cradle.

'On that note,' Lily thought with a frown, 'how is it that such a decent person was born into a family like the Malfoys?'

As much as they were friends, Lily refrained from asking such a question of Persephone, and dutifully pretended that she didn't notice the almost daily letters Persephone received from home, which made the girl's face tense with fresh hurt.

From everything Lily had learned about them, both from her other friends, and from what she had seen during the few run-ins she'd had with Lucius Malfoy, the family was one of the oldest and most powerful wizard clans in Britain next to the Blacks and the Greengrasses – and also one of the most mired in the Dark Arts. In the _Daily Prophet_, which she had begun to read since Severus began to have it delivered at breakfast in the morning, she noticed a worrying trend that many members of the Malfoy family were being questioned by the Ministry for suspected Dark activity or lending support to the mysterious movement calling themselves Death Eaters. These wizards were the followers of a man that the _Prophet_ had begun to refer to in writing as You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named because of his growing power. He was supposedly responsible for many deaths throughout the United Kingdom, and it was on his order that many atrocities were being carried out. Every few mornings, the students of Hogwarts would look up at a cry from one of their fellows who received mail from home informing them of the death or disappearance of a loved one. Lily felt sorry for them, remembering what it had been like to lose her favourite aunt to disease, and knew it must have been ten times worse to have a family member murdered, or simply cease to exist.

"What's going on?" Severus demanded as they left the great hall, effectively interrupting her thoughts.

"I said I'd tell you in Potions –"

"Where we share a bench with Blundell?" he prompted. "Not to mention that people eavesdrop on us all the time hoping to pick up potions tips."

Lily grumbled. "We need a spell to keep people from doing that." She thought of what she had to tell him, and how she definitely didn't want everyone to know about it. "And not just to keep them from copying our homework."

"I'm working on it," Severus said simply. "I've been in the library trying to find a spell or a charm to do that, but the only one that comes close is a Silencing Charm, which won't really help us. Of course, I could be looking in the wrong place – you're the Charms prodigy, aren't you? You would probably recognize what we're looking for faster."

He said it in a mocking voice that anyone who didn't know him would have taken for an insult, but which Lily knew to be his manner of teasing.

"I'll help you look," she agreed, and he looked slightly mollified.

"So," he continued. "Tell me what you're being so secretive over."

Lily looked around surreptitiously to make sure no one was listening, which of course no one was, as every other student in the corridor was trying to get to their first classes that morning. She motioned Severus closer.

"Promise you won't get tetchy," she ordered as they wandered down toward the dungeons. Severus raised an eyebrow. "I mean in, Sev, you have to promise to at least wait until I've finished what I've got to say before you start on me."

He definitely looked suspicious now, but with an effort ground out, "Fine."

She knew that was the best she was going to get from him, and hurriedly went on, "It's happening again...you know...that thing?"

He raised an eyebrow, and again checking to make sure no one was watching, she mimed a walking motion with her fingers. Severus' eyebrows rose even higher, and he hissed at her as they entered the Potions class room,

"Again? When? Did you go see Madam Cuthbert – ?"

Lily held up a hand, lowering her voice again as other students began to come into the classroom, and began speaking quickly, trying to tell him everything as quickly as possible. She informed him of the nights she had woken up outside of her bed, and of Persephone finding out again – he made an annoyed noise, no doubt to demand why she hadn't told him – ("I was going to, Sev, but I wanted to see if the Sleeping Draught would work first. You promised you would be quiet while I told you!") – and of Madam Cuthbert's potion not working. She had reached the part when she awoke in the great hall when Slughorn entered the classroom, and she was forced to pause in her retelling as they finished some last minute notes and listened to his directions concerning actually brewing Boil-Cure Potions. During this time, Severus made an effort to be completely silent, but she know by the tension in his shoulders and the odd, upright way he was holding himself that he was anything but calm.

Once the professor gave them leave to begin their Potions, Severus was all ears once again.

"What happened after that?" he asked her as he crushed their snake fangs in the mortar. His earlier wish to improve the make-up of the potion seemed to have fled as he hung on to her every word.

"I was trying to figure out how to get back to Gryffindor Tower, when..." she trailed off, momentarily wondering what to say. She hadn't told Persephone about the odd figure she had seen, not knowing if it was possible. The spell placed upon her by Salazar Slytherin's enchanted self during her Sorting had kept her from telling her friends anything related to the Torc – but she wasn't sure that the apparition had anything to do with it. Cat-Sidhe had been watching her that morning when she had spoken to Persephone, but she was not here now. It suddenly seemed important that she tell someone, and Severus was the person she trusted most in the world.

With supreme effort, Lily managed to whisper, "I saw something."

Severus leaned closer under the guise of adding the powdered snake fangs to the cauldron. "What?"

"It was really dark...I'm not sure, but it was like...a spectre?"

Severus made an unimpressed face. "You saw a ghost? So what? We see them every day."

"No, it wasn't a ghost. It was solid – other than when it winked in and out of sight. Like it was Apparating."

"That's not possible. You can't Apparate in or out of Hogwarts – "

"I _know_ Sev! I never said it was a person, I just said it was solid. It wasn't a ghost."

"And you're sure you weren't just hallucinating? Because you did only just wake up."

She remembered the feel of the cold cobblestones and the sharp air that had cleared the haze of sleep from her. "No. I was completely awake. And just in time, too."

She related the experience of the apparition disappearing completely and nearly being caught by Mrs. Norris, but faltered when it came time to talk about being rescued by Potter, Black and Lupin. She knew Severus would not be pleased, but she also wasn't sure how to explain about the Invisibility Cloak. Persephone had simply believed that she had run into the boys sneaking around and hadn't asked how they had gotten down there and out again without being noticed. But she knew Severus, suspicious by nature, would not buy that easily.

"I don't remember too much of what went on next, it happened really quickly," she lied. "I guess Potter and his friends had been sneaking around in the dark too – they caused a distraction somehow. Filch and the cat took off, and we all ran upstairs."

Severus froze in the middle of waving his wand over their cauldron, looking at her with shock, revulsion and the slightest bit of betrayal. "You mean to tell me...that you were running around after hours last night with _Potter_?"

"It wasn't by choice," Lily replied evasively, glad at least that he was focusing on who had helped her escape and not the manner in which they had. "I've no idea how they got there, just like I've no idea how I got there. But I'm not going to lie, Sev, it was a good thing they showed up when they did or I'd have been in loads of trouble."

"I'm sure," Severus snapped. "I'll just bet you're all the best of pals now. Did you tell your new friends about your sleep-walking? I'm sure they were so concerned about you. I bet they're in the back now, putting their heads together trying to help you, because of that stupid Gryffindor nobility I keep hearing all about."

Lily gaped.

"You're heating your cauldron too much, McKinnon," she heard Slughorn's voice in the background as she stared at Severus, momentarily too angry to come up with a reply.

"What are you on about?" she hissed when she finally could speak. "Did you even hear what you just said? It's utter rubbish!"

"No, what's utter rubbish is my getting in fights about you, while you're busy making friends with those arrogant gits the minute I'm not around," Severus spat, glaring.

Momentarily taken aback, Lily felt her annoyance ebb for a second. "Fights about me?"

Severus realized he had said something he shouldn't have, and then looked away quickly. "It's not important."

"Of course it's important!" Lily cried, and then lowered her voice as Marine glanced over at them from where she and Persephone were working. "You shouldn't be getting into fights, especially not about me!"

Severus looked as though he was struggling with something, and finally managed to ground out, "It wasn't just about you. They were – it was about – they were making fun of me. For being friends with you."

Lily blinked, and then an embarrassed anger took over when she realized what he was talking about. "Because I'm Muggleborn."

"It's none of their business," Severus grumbled. "And I told them as much, but then that prat Goyle called me a –" He clamped his mouth shut, looking utterly discomfited, and despite the tension in his posture, he was considering her doubtfully.

"What did he call you?"

Severus struggled with something, and then in a flat, defeated voice, he intoned, "He called me a Mudblood-lover. It's nothing."

'There's that word again,' she thought

"It obviously wasn't 'nothing' if you got into a fight about it – what's a Mudblood?"

"Lily..."

"If you don't tell me, I'll just ask someone else," Lily said in a steely voice, already turning to Persephone, who was bustling nervously around hers and Marine's potion, which was bubbling in a threatening way that at the back of her mind Lily knew shouldn't be happening.

"It's...it's an insult," Severus muttered needlessly, causing her to pause. "For people...for anyone who's got – you know – who's not a –"

"Whose parents are Muggles," Lily finished, feeling her heart sink. Severus wouldn't meet her gaze, and she realized with a pang that as much as he was trying to pretend the situation wasn't affecting him, his friendship with her was causing tension. And on some level, he was ashamed enough about her parentage to not want to be considered friendly to Muggleborns.

They didn't speak for several minutes ("Good Lord, Potter, are you aiming to strip flesh from bone?" Slughorn snapped in the background, "Remove that cauldron from the fire before the solution burns through it!") and when she could finally force herself to meet Severus gaze, he looked completely stricken.

"You told me it didn't mean anything," she told him sadly. "You said it had nothing to do with anything, and that I was just as good as a non-Muggleborn."

"It doesn't mean anything," he said quickly, sensing her hurt. "Not to me, you know that. But things are different in Slytherin. If they sense weakness, they pounce on it. I had to do something, or those gits would be on my back about it all of the time – worse, they might start going after you."

"And what makes you think I can't take care of myself?"

"I know you can take care of yourself," Severus groaned in exasperation. "One-on-one against some idiot Muggle girl with a hormone imbalance, yes. But when someone comes after you with magic, it's different. So now they know that if they mess with me, they'll be in for it."

"Or that they'll just get a rise out of you," Lily shot back. "You've got to ignore it."

"You don't ignore stuff like that."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Stuff like what? Them saying I'm a Mudblood, or them saying you're a Mudblood lover?"

Severus winced and glared at her. "Both."

She noticed absently that the Boil-Cure Potion was boiling at a more rapid rate than it should have been, but Severus' next comment made her completely forget it.

"But maybe I shouldn't be making such a big deal of it," he drawled. "Considering you've become chums with Potter, why don't you let him stand up for you? I'm sure he's ready to jump in front of a curse for you after your midnight meeting."

"That's what you're really upset about, isn't it?" Lily snapped, blood rushing to her cheeks in anger. "You're not upset about getting in a fight with anyone – I bet you enjoyed cursing Goyle, just to prove a point! – but you're angry because I was wandering about last night with someone other than you! You'd probably be just as annoyed if it were Persephone."

"Of course not," Severus told her unconvincingly, glancing around. No one was paying attention to their argument, as everyone seemed absorbed in their potions, which were giving off a rather sweltering heat. Slughorn was hurrying to and fro, sounding agitated for some reason. "It's just that things are dodgy lately, even here at Hogwarts, and someone like you –

" – a Mudblood, right?"

"Stop saying that! I would never call you that!" he snapped." But yes, for a Muggleborn, it's probably not a good idea to wander around in the dark after hours. Not just because you can get points taken away or detention, but because you could get hurt."

His words and her knowledge that he was keeping something back from her, something she had her suspicions about, lit the spark of her temper which had been simmering under wraps ever since the argument with Severus had started. Back home she had always felt bad about getting angry at Severus, believing that if they fought he would stop talking to her and her only link to the wizarding world would be cut off – but here at Hogwarts, surrounded by that world, she felt an invisible support, and her anger was allowed free reign. Along with her fear at what had been happening to her, all of it rushed out in a steady stream of anger directed at Severus.

"I don't need you or anybody else to protect me from gossip!" she hissed. "People are going to say what they say whether I want them to or not, and I can't do anything about it! It's called freedom of speech, and it's been around awhile! I'm not worried about rumours or insults, Sev, I'm worried about bloody losing my mind and walking around at night like a zombie!" She inhaled angrily and kept going, "Don't you realize how absolutely terrifying it is not to wake up in your own bed? I don't care that it was Potter, Black and Lupin who got me out of there, at that point it didn't matter – and you should be happy that I didn't get in trouble, because Potter raised an interesting point that I could possibly have been Imperiused – which is horrifying in and of itself! And I only happened to tell Persephone about it first because I saw her first this morning – if you're going to get angry for petty reasons like me not telling you something within seconds of it happening, then I'm never going to tell you anything else again! So stop acting like an absolute prat about things we can't control and start using your brain again, because I need your help to –"

The rest of Lily's tirade was drowned out by a sudden roaring explosion and cries of alarm from the rest of class as every cauldron in the room suddenly boiled over, scorching hot liquid bursting in every direction. Lily felt someone grab her out of the way, and noticed a second later that Severus had pulled her out of the path of their own scalding potion, which sprayed all over where they had been standing and was currently eating through the tables and chairs. Several people cried out in pain as they were sprayed, vicious boils erupting on every bit of exposed skin, and Slughorn was shouting orders at everyone, hurrying through the classroom despite his bulk, vanishing potions left and right.

"Don't let it touch you!" he cried, harried, "Anyone who's been splashed, have one of your fellow students bring you up to the hospital wing. The rest of you, begin moving anything you can out of the path of the potion – and _don't let it touch you_!"

While Lily had escaped the spray, Marine hadn't been so lucky and was whimpering angrily as broils began to cover her entire face. Persephone murmured soothing encouragements to her as she started to lead her from the room, but the French girl shook her off and bolted from the room, hiding her face in her robes.

"She's rather attached to her looks, isn't she?" Severus remarked mildly, and Lily opened her mouth to retort, but was distracted as Potter and Black strolled past their workspace, laughing loudly and high-fiving each other as they left the classroom; Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew following along, the latter covered in broils and whining pitifully.

Lily glared furiously after them.

"What an irresponsible prank," she groused, deciding there was only one explanation for thirty-five cauldrons bubbling over simultaneously, and then sent Severus a rather dirty look. "D'you still think I'd want to be friends with the likes of _them_?"

"I guess not," Severus admitted reluctantly.

"They don't even care that people could have gotten hurt – just as many Gryffindors were there as Slytherins," Lily went on. "It was completely immature."

"We should report them to Slughorn," Severus replied, and Lily noticed that his tone had become less antagonistic to her, as though their united disapproval had effectively put an end to the quarrel.

"You could do that," Persephone said quietly, "Of course, you would have to essentially prove it was them. Did either of you actually see them do anything?"

Lily and Severus exchanged dark looks.

"Well...no," she admitted grudgingly.

"But look at how they were acting," Severus protested. "It was entirely obvious."

"_Homo praesumitur bonus donec probetur malus,_" Persephone reminded them placidly, and when Severus looked confused, Lily translated, "'One is innocent until proven guilty.'"

Persephone blinked, surprised, "Er...yes. How did you know that?"

Lily opened her mouth to answer, and then frowned, not knowing what to say. She shrugged, muttering, "Must have read it somewhere," and quickly went on, "I highly doubt the word 'innocent' could ever have been or ever should be applied to James Potter. Or Sirius Black."

Persephone looked as though she didn't quite believer her, but didn't pursue the matter.

In the end, Slughorn allowed the First Years to leave, as despite his warnings, three other people ended up getting the botched potion sprayed on them and had to be helped off to the hospital wing by their friends. It would be another hour before lunch and Herbology afterward, and so Lily, Persephone and Severus decided to wander down by the courtyard. The weather was still relatively nice, and they all knew it would only be a matter of time before autumn turned dreary and lapsed into winter.

Lily leaned against one of the stone and mortar ramparts that surrounded the inner courtyard, listening to the sound of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard and enjoying the fresh air on her face. The breeze was crisp, and she felt a swell of homesickness. The letters she had gotten from home were all from her parents, telling her about the usual town news and of how everyone was. But no word from Petunia.

She sighed at the charm bracelet that she always wore, the last gift her sister had ever given her.

"What are you going to do?"

She jumped, having forgotten that Persephone and Severus were still there. It was he that had spoken, and he was considering her cautiously, as though waiting for her to get angry at him again. Although she knew that she had cause to do just that, she felt weary from her outburst, and didn't want to pursue their argument further. Instead she sighed and tried to force her mind back to the most pressing matter, that of her late night wanderings. What was she going to do about the compulsion to wander off at night, and the shadowed whispers in her mind about the Torc that she apparently bore?

She rubbed her neck again and groaned, "I have no idea – and before either of you suggests talking to a professor about it or going back for another go at a Sleeping Draught, the answer's no." They both looked about to protest, but she rounded on them. Checking to make sure they were completely alone in the courtyard, she continued, "I think someone – or something, I suppose – is trying to talk to me."

"What, this ghost of yours?" Severus asked with a grimace.

"What ghost?" Persephone asked.

Lily quickly filled her in, before adding, "And I already told you, it wasn't a ghost. I'm almost sure it was solid."

"'Almost' isn't a lot to go on."

"I know you don't want to hear it, Lily, but this sounds like serious Dark magic," Persephone said worriedly."It could be something relatively harmless, like someone wanting to cast Muggleborns in a bad light, but it could also be that you've been bewitched to do something particular." She looked upset. "Please, go see Professor Dumbledore. He's supposed to scare most Dark wizards, I'm sure he could stop it from happening."

"It's not something that Dumbledore can help with!" Lily cried passionately, fervently wishing Cat-Sidhe where there so that she could kick her. It would be so much easier to tell her friends why she knew Dumbledore wouldn't be able to help without the beast's curse keeper her from speaking. "Just..." She groaned, and caught Severus' worried gaze. "You trust me, right?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I'm serious – if I couldn't tell you something but I asked you to trust me anyway, would you?"

Severus opened his mouth to reply, closed it, and then considered her for a long moment. Finally, he said quietly, "Yes."

Her heart beat happily at this revelation, and she considered the other girl. "Persephone? I know we haven't known each other long – "

"Of course I trust you," Persephone said brusquely. "But trusting someone doesn't mean anything if they've been Imperiused."

"I haven't been," Lily cried. "Don't you think when I went to Madam Cuthbert the first time and we told her what's been happening, she would have immediately thought of that?"

"Not necessarily," Severus murmured, and Lily groaned, considering Persephone.

"You already said how it would feel to be under a curse like that," she attempted, pleading, "and I told you nothing like that's happened. Please, just trust me when I say it's something else. I know it. I just need to know if I can count on your help or if I'm going to have to figure this out myself!"

Her friends appeared taken aback by her sudden fervour, and Severus was the first to speak up, his black eyes filled with worry. He had never seen her as upset before. "You know you don't even have to ask me, right? Of course I'm going to help you – but it's going to be a bit hard, what with you being a Gryffindor and me...not really being in a position to help you."

"Well, it's not like I'm going to ignore her if she starts wandering again," Persephone reminded him, bothered. "And we can easily get the other girls in the dorm in on it –"

"I don't want them to know –" Lily began, but Persephone waved this off.

"I don't propose we tell them everything. We'll just say that you've been hit by a rather hard bout of homesickness and that you've taken to sleep walking. I'm sure they've at least noticed that much already, Alice in particular seems pretty perceptive."

"And if they suggest another Sleeping Draught?"

"Tell them you've got an allergy and that Madam Cuthbert thinks the sleep-walking will end on its own," Severus suggested. "Which it will, once we figure it out."

"But what happens if I manage to get out again?" Lily asked. "I was lucky last time – " she ignored Severus' dark look, " – because I ended up in the Great Hall. What happens if I end up in some dark corridor on my own? I can't even remember most of the passages during the day, at night it's bound to be a hundred times worse. All the worse, if Peeves or Filch are lurking."

"We'll have to come up with some means of alerting myself of Persephone to come and get you," Severus mused. "That way, depending on who's closest, we could come find you and bring you back."

Persephone looked doubtful, and murmured, "We'd have to have some kind of communication that we always have on us."

Severus shrugged. "We could use a Protean Charm, I think –"

" – those are N.E.W.T level though – "

" – or a variation of a Protean Charm. Maybe research the Trace Charm as well," Severus was lost in thought. "And if we threw in a Four-Point-Spell..." He looked up, noticing that he had become a bit lost in thought and grinned wanly. "The crux is, I think I could figure out a way, with a bit of research. Most of it would be Charms, I think, which is where you'd come in."

"I could try," Lily said tentatively. "But Sev, most of those spells are N.E.W.T or higher. We've barely started – we haven't even done Hover Charms yet."

"If anyone could figure it out, you could," he told her encouragingly. When she continued to feel doubtful, he made an impatient noise. "Or we could go see Dumbledore. Which is still not a bad idea."

"It's probably the most prudent option," Persephone reminded them. "It's an awful lot of planning and research we're considering, when we could just go and – "

"We'll start researching today after classes," Lily said, effectively interrupting her friend and meeting Severus' determined gaze with her own. He looked strangely excited, and she knew that despite his misgivings about what they were doing, he was looking forward to possibly learning magic beyond what was being taught to their year. And if she had understood him correctly, he might even be contemplating creating a completely new spell...

"This stays between us," Lily said, looking at both in turn. "No talking about it to your housemates –" Severus rolled his eyes at her, intimating that he had never intended to, " – and no getting any of the professors involved – " she levelled her gaze at Persephone, who visibly struggled with something, and then nodded.

"But if it gets worse, Lily, or starts happening to other people, I will," her friend told her, determined. "Because it won't just be about you anymore then."

Lily opened her mouth to argue, and then shut it. "Alright. That's all right, I guess."

'But I'm pretty sure it won't happen to anyone else,' she thought grimly, and then shivered. 'This is utter madness. All of this...and I still haven't got the closest clue as to _why_ we're doing it.'

But she knew something for sure and certain. This and anything related to the Torc, had to be kept secret. Cat-Sidhe's warning would not go unheeded.

* * *

><p>This chapter took a bit longer then I thought it would, I had a bit of a block. Lily's reluctance to talk to Severus was born out of my frustration in having them come up with a convincing scene for them to discuss everything. I hope it made sense to you readers.<p>

Also, apologies to my American readers (which happen to make up the vast majority, actually), but I thought I'd put a little humour in there at your expense. I figured it to be a rather British thing to do – and hey, as a Canadian I have a little bit of entitlement. It's not like you lot haven't made jokes about Canadians before, right? (Oh, get off your high horse, I know you have!) But it's all in good fun, so don't take it too seriously. A sign of character is being able to laugh at yourself :P

Shoutout to **iloveflyingmotorbikes** – I'm flattered that you think so, I do my best.

As usual, thank you everyone for your interest and

TBC


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